#and coercion

[muuurder]

It’s the way I was playing bg3 and hadn’t received spoilers for the entire thing with haarlep.

I do not know what I thought haarlep was gonna do but it wasn’t sleep with my tav for some reason. I failed the rolls to make it stop and fuckin panicked. Now my tav got their body copied and snatched by him to use.

[megamindsupremacy]

Kinda obsessed w how Ganke was 0% on board to be Miles’ guy in the chair. Kid was Thee #1 Spiderman fan in the first movie but he absolutely refuses to get roped into this shit now. King of setting healthy boundaries.

[prettyboykatsuki]

TEXTBOOK CITATIONS ON IMMORAL SEX | S. GETOU ft. F. TOJI

✮ tags ; porn no plot, afab + fem!reader (good girl, little girl once sarcastically by toji, pretty), mild degradation (dirty girl, a bitch in heat), professor!getou + security guard!toji, dubcon, imbalanced power dynamics, age gaps(10+ years), mild coercion / blackmail, spit play, wet ‘n messy sex, face-fucking, oral (f +m!recieving), spanking, restraints, dirty talk, creampie / unprotected sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 10.6k

✮ synopsis ; You’re willing to do anything to pass your intro course. Whatever it takes. No cost is too high.

✮ a /n ; a comm for the beloved @fushironi !!! thank you for commissioning me and letting me post your work. if anyone is interested in a commission i will be reopening them at some point this month hopefully

A SIDE NOTE: THIS IS VERY CONSENSUAL!! but the relationship is inherently unethical so the dubcon tag is there. and this is. just smut. no plot no brain. just porn.

You're failing ethics. 

You're failing ethics and failing it badly. 

You refuse to take all of the blame for your failures. Some of it is your fault, but most of it is the fault of your good-for-nothing academic advisor. You're not sure what they get paid for, since it seems like there's an elaborate prank going on between staff and you're the only one not in on the joke. In what universe is it possible, plausible - that an individual could get paid for doing everything but their job? 

Apparently this one. But whatever. 

In your last semester of university, on the edge of graduating and totally on the right track - you're informed that you're not going to be able to graduate in the expected time frame because you are missing a single course. You learn this information about two days before registrations close, which means all the meaningful classes contributing to your major are booked and busy. Everything is full, and everything that isn't doesn't contribute to your degree. As in, even if you took it - it wouldn't give you what you need to graduate. 

After a full-blown mental break, a long night crying yourself to sleep in your dorm, and an egregious amount of begging - you managed to snag yourself a class. It wasn't ideal by any stretch of the imagination, and it did put quite the strain on your schedule. Straight out of your 8am lab - you had to speed walk to the other end of campus and make sure you made it to lecture. The lecture time itself was an hour and twenty minutes, attendance mandatory, twice a week - which meant you had to delay lunch again till afterwards and learn on empty fumes till 1 pm. 

Still, better than not graduating at all. 

You'd hoped (expected?) that the course itself would be about average in coursework. For one, it's an intro class. Intro to Ethics or PHIL-2467, with Professor Getou Suguru. Secondly, the actual listed coursework seems simple enough. Discussion boards, reading analysis, and a few papers made up for most of the grade. The expectations were outlined as clearly as they could be. 

You didn't really know anything about Professor Getou at the time, only that his ratemyprofessor described him as somewhat strict but mostly good. 

In any case, you'd consider yourself lucky. And in an effort not to freak out about your circumstances, you'd practically chanted to yourself each night the same mantra. Everything was going to be fine. You've taken nearly 120 hours of coursework, and a little extra time won't kill you. At the start of the semester, you fully believed it too. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and utterly naive.

How could a single course torment you like this? You hadn't the faintest clue. At first, it struck you as odd that the course felt as difficult to grasp as it did. The readings were complex and extremely long but always said a lot of nothing. Much of your grade was dependent not only on assigned work but participation and discussion. The paper criteria was only simple on the surface, but proved to be too lengthy to comprehend and too difficult to fulfill. 

Long story short, the class was kicking your ass. And the ass-kicking slowly progressed into a failure so bad it was laughable. You're in your final year, and that means taking a lot of difficult and specified courses in relation to your major. You were at the point where your classmates were starting to thin out, and you were seeing the same group of people you had as a freshman. As far as prioritizing goes, a 3-credit hour course that isn't technically meaningful to you falls to the very bottom of your priorities. You're more concerned with things like job-hunting and finishing your capstone and all the stuff related to your actual career. 

So you've been half-assing all the papers and exams, falling asleep in class, and lowkey straight up ignoring the weekly discussion boards. 

However, above everything else, the worst part of your class is your professor. Professor Getou Suguru. PhD in Comparative Ethics with a Masters in Cognitive Science. 

You didn't really have a chance to speak with any of your friends about Professor Getou, despite it being in your best interest - because you only knew you had the class two days before it started. You'd come to learn only two things about him after attending. First, he's a complete hardass when it comes to grading any assignments, and second most of his merit comes from the fact he is ridiculously good-looking. 

He can't be any older than his late thirties or early forties, which means he's young. Young enough to be attractive but old enough for most of your peers to thirst for him in unhealthy ways. He's at least a decade and a half older than you, and by god does he make it clear. 

What they don't tell you about college is that there's nothing that can make or break a class more than your professor. Everyone is always too worried about everything else, about getting their schedule right - that they often overlook this basic tenet of college life even though it's so crucial. The worst part is that while various websites rating your professors are helpful, you won't truthfully know how you feel about a professor until you've met them in a classroom. You've had professors with lower ratings be absolute angels, and professors with higher ones being some of the most useless in your entire academic career. 

You were hoping that Professor Suguru would be what you expected. That his astounding 4.5/5 would be a meaningful assessment of his character, that he would be tolerable and polite and understanding and that your semester would be smooth sailing because of it. 

But of course, of course - that couldn't be further from the truth.

You don't know at what point exactly your relationship to Professor Suguru became as sour as it is right now. There's no real pivotal movement where mild intolerance became full-blown and outright distaste. But part of it, you know, stems from the fact your beloved professor is a snake. 

You have no idea how no one else notices it. It genuinely feels like you're the only one who catches the subtleties of his behavior. There's just something about him that's a little…off. The irony isn't lost on you. He's an ethics professor, but something about him makes alarm bells go off in your head. A walking red flag, though a handsome one. He's off in a subtle way, but more than that - he's very openly smug to every single one of his students. It's just that no one else seems to really care. The air of pretension that surrounds him in his every movement is suffocating. Maybe that's part of the charm, if the way girls flock to him after class is anything to go by. 

Even so, you just know there's something deliberate about his casual cruelties. He always seems to pick out the quiet kids, and from the beginning of your semester to now - he always, always manages to single you out of the crowd of students. In every class, in every discussion, in every chance he has to make you out to be a troublemaker he will. 

Yes, you don't really have any idea how it started. But you've been keeping a long record of every single act of personal terror that damned man has been inflicting on you since the start of the course, and you're not unconvinced that your shit grade is in part because he wants to see you grovel in front of him. 

The first time it happened - you figure it was a coincidence. He had called you out in class after you missed a discussion board. You hadn't done the reading, and it wasn't obviously humiliating but it singled you out all the same. When you fumbled coming up with an answer, he gave you a smug smile that so quickly morphed into a fake sincere one, you wondered if you were imagining things. 

The second time was when you came in late after a walk of shame, and Professor Suguru greeted you by the door by asking if those were the same clothes you wore yesterday. After being completely mortified by it, the once dark gaze immediately rescinded to his usual fake-calm self. It was suspicious, but not the concrete evidence you needed. 

And the third time was after your first project of the semester. Your grade was lower than you deserved, and you knew it - so you went to his office hours to bitch and moan to get it bumped up. But he wouldn't budge, saying that he thought his assessment was accurate. Made a smug face as he told you he just didn't think you thought your points out through. Unfair critiques shielded by flowery words and polite gestures. It was that moment that cemented the dislike, though it wasn't the start.

The beginning of the end, so to speak.

Ever since then, you've harbored nothing but dislike for him. You can see past his pretty face and you don't see anything good. You've had unpleasant professors before, but none have ever targeted you so specifically. None of your previous professors, even at the worst, seemed to hold such an unbelievable personal grudge. 

You're all alone, fighting an invisible battle. 

The worst of it though, is that you simply couldn't be bothered to give a shit about it for most of the semester. You had way too much going on, so you just had to put up with the inexplicable dread of attending that class until you had to deal with it again eventually. 

And after months and months of avoiding the issue head-on, you're at a point where you can no longer do so. Your grade is officially below a C after bombing your last quiz, and there's only 5 weeks left until your semester is over and you're barred from graduation. 

And you have no fucking idea what you should do about the situation. 

__

There's a subtle pit of dread in your stomach as you enter your first philosophy lecture of the week. 

For the first time since the start of the semester, Professor Getou doesn't antagonize you as soon as you enter the door. In a strange way, this makes you kind of uncomfortable. He gives you his usual fake smile, but the fact he's gone out of his way to leave you alone makes you feel like he's planning something. 

You brush your paranoia aside as you take a seat in the back of your class. You don't have any friends in this lecture, at least not ones you do more than greet. You sit closer to the back of the lecture hall, tucked into a corner and up a few steps.

The charms on the end of your book bag zippers click together as you take your seat. You open your laptop - pulling up the lecture slides to pretend to study while opening 2048 to play while Professor Getou goes on about his business. You're hoping he's going to go easy on you today, and that his lack of interference is a sign of mercy. 

More people start to trickle in and the classroom is the usual amount of packed it is by this point in the semester. The last day to drop passed last week, so the number of students has decreased despite it being spring semester. 

Your professor starts his lecture as soon as the clock hits 11:30am. You look up from your computer, watching him as he sets up his slide deck and waits for all the conversation to settle before he begins talking.

He catches your eyes briefly before he continues, but he holds it for long enough that you know it's intentional. You frown at him, and it almost looks like he laughs - but you can't be sure your mind isn't tricking you into thinking that. 

"Good morning everybody," His voice is smooth and pleasant - hair tied up neatly. He's wearing his usual attire. Black slacks, and a loose-fitting white shirt with some kind of canvas shoe. "How's everybody hanging in there? Good? Bad?" 

He takes a look around the room, gauging peoples replies before chuckling. 

"Not in good shape huh? Stick it out, a few more weeks and you'll be out of here. Today, we're going to continue on into section five of our coursework - the shortest of all of our other sections," He grabs something that clicks the slide into the next one, a few images next to a wall of text "We have a lot to cover in the last few weeks, but I want to start with a refresh of what concepts we've been learning for the last few weeks." 

The swiftness in the way his eyes land on you is comical in its predictability. You give him an uncomfortable half-smile as he calls your name and brings the class's attention your way. A few looks of pity don't go unnoticed. You stiffen, straighten your back as he says your name slowly before asking. 

"Do you think you can tell me, what are the four core structures that define modern Japanese philosophical thinking?" 

There's real, uncomfortable weight to his gaze that makes you choke. You pull back slightly. 

"Uhm, well - there's Shintoism, Confucianism, Buddhism and western ideology. Primarily German idealism."

He gives you a smug look, the same one you always see before it fades off to an uncannily brilliant smile. Not a sincere one, because when is it ever - but there all the same. 

"Someone's been studying hard huh? But you are correct. We've spent the majority of this class going over the first three. How Shinto tradition, Confucianism, and Buddhism were experienced in Japan - isolated from Anglo-Saxon influence for the first few centuries of its establishment. We've also studied the vague historical timeline of these influences, mostly focusing on modern philosophy. We've covered Edo period philosophy as a precursor for what we know and understand now." 

You can say a lot about Professor Getou, but more than anything - he has a certain way of commanding the room's attention that never lets you get completely comfortable. He has an air of charisma you've never seen in your life and being in close proximity to it makes you feel like you're being swept in by waves larger than life. 

You fidget almost anxiously as you wait for him to continue his lesson.

"Our last few weeks are going to cover the culmination of your previous lessons, and what dictates both national morality and the hierarchy of modern Japanese social mores - Bushido. The way of the Samurai." 

Professor Getou continues with this slide deck as he outlines Bushido conceptually. From its existence as a moral code in late 12th century Japan, to the many misconceptions about the strictness in which it was adhered. He starts the lessons like he starts many others, explaining misconception and myth before touching the surface of the subject at hand. 

It's in his nature to advocate for the whole truth. From the start of your classes to now, Professor Getou always places the same emphasis. If only that truth is unable to be understood without opposition. It's like his whole being is constructed by it, opposition that is always radical and jaw-dropping. You've known this about him since he voiced his open critique for certain ideas about social welfare and about the emphasis of national morality. 

You can't be certain what he really believes - only that he'll voice his views as critically as possible, if only to stir the room. 

"Bushido is the heart and soul of modern and postmodern Japanese ethics, but it remains critically undefined despite its usage and citation functionally. Other philosophical schools of thought have strict definitions - Bushido is evolutionary in nature. Inazo Nitobe is primarily credited with the modern and popular interpretation of Bushido, but has received criticism for its obvious influence from Western ideas, and its comparison to chivalry."

Professor Getou sits back on the edge of his desk with a look on his face. 

"The tendency of Japanese philosophy to lean into metaphysics does not align with the many values of infrastructure and military present in the culture now, but I'm not going to critique the philosophy for you," He skips to the next slide, your last project of the semester on the wall "For the sake of brevity, I'm going to have you write a paper on one of the eight outlined ideals in Nitobe's work, and I want you to reflect on that ideal in your paper." 

A collective whispering erupts in the class as people stress about the assignment of their final few weeks. Not unexpected given the circumstances. Professor Getou doesn't flinch as he waits for the room to settle down.

"This will be your final project in this classroom, and will count as your final grade. On one hand, doing a good job on it means you have nothing to worry about for the last few weeks. On the other it's make or break," He locks eyes with you again as he says this, startling you as his smile grows coy and inauspicious "So if you're in need of a good grade to pass you, I'd recommend coming to see me during office hours or during one-on-one time so I can get you the grade you need. We'll discuss more at the end of class, but we've gotta get through more lectures so you can get an idea of what you can pick."

He gives you one another look, another pointed and obviously direct look, before he proceeds on with his lecture. It gives you a bad feeling in your stomach, and maybe you're being too self-centered thinking he's focusing too much on you.

But you can't help it, swallowing down your uncertainty as you continue on with the lesson. 

You need to pass this class. 

___ 

You meet up with Nobara after the fact. 

She's a good sounding board for your problems as usual. Where you're always looking for the most civil solutions, she's good at giving it to you straight on what you should do. She's no bullshit and you like that about her. Whenever you need a kick in the ass or an ounce of courage, she's the person for the job.

 So after meeting up for lunch, ranting again about Professor Getou (for the hundredth—no, thousandth time), and whining about his weird behavior, you're expecting some semi-sound, if not mean advice on what you should do. 

"Have you thought about just fucking him?" She says instead, her voice full of sincere boredom. It comes out so casually, like she's relaying the news cycle to you - and you can't help but be utterly shocked listening to it. "Not that it was my first suggestion, but I mean…it's getting ridiculous." 

"Hello? Where the hell did that come from? What do you mean just fucking him?" 

She gives you a sideways glance of disdain as if you were the one saying something unreasonable. She leans forward into her hand mirror, gluing on her eyelashes for her afternoon date with Maki. She scoffs when she realizes your shock is genuine. 

"Are you serious? Does this not read as an elaborate scheme for this total jackass to fuck you?" 

You're flabbergasted. Surely she's not being serious with you. 

"Nobara." 

"Haah? Tch. Don't make that face. It's a gross abuse of his power but well, he's not ugly. If he were any younger of a professor, would you like… not assume that was the end game?" 

"Nobara, he's a professor of ethics. His whole career is ethics." 

"Yeah. Like. The perfect cover for wanting to screw his wide-eyed, desperate students. He's a hot, young professor. Not my type but you get me. Don't you think it's a little naive to assume his personal vendetta against you is shit, I don't know… totally lacking that motive? Think with your brain, not your tender little heart for a minute, okay?" 

"It's not that!" 

"Really? Just like your relationship with Mr. Fushiguro is totally platonic?" 

"I said it was one-sided, not platonic." 

"You're my whole heart and soul, you know that right? I didn't freak on you when you said you had a crush on Megumi's deadbeat dad. You're my salvation from the idiots we call guy friends. So I'm saying this with love, and not as the complete bitch you know me as - you're being dumb." 

"Nobara, are you seriously saying you think this whole thing is about him wanting to," You can barely even get the words out. You're not that much of a prude but god. "Wanting to have… sex with me?" 

"Yeah. What else would it even be? I think an awful man is interested in screwing you - a hot, capable twenty-something. Are you stupid? Is that like, sooo impossible for you to consider?"

"Well it's not the first place I would think to go, that's for sure." 

"And that's your whole problem. Don't get me wrong, again, totally gross. Is it like.. a total abuse of his authority? Yeah. But that doesn't have anything to do with you personally. If I'm right, and you fuck him - you get a good lay and to graduate. And you need both."

"Nobara!"

"Don't be mad, I love you, okay? But I'm thinking about your future and your prospects. There's nothing wrong with it on a technical level."

"That is so untrue and you know it—"

"Look. I don't like it. I think it's a weak move and kind of corny and gross. But you've been planning your big graduation for years. And it's not a bad opportunity, and you're not a complete idiot. You said before that he's never inappropriate with the other girls right? You might even be the only one. As far as I'm concerned, there's no reason for you to not get laid and pass." 

"Oh, so the student-teacher thing isn't reason enough?" 

"Not if you wanna graduate it's not." 

The two of you remain at a stand-still as his words trap you into a corner. How the hell do you even deal with this information? And how on Earth is she so sure of herself anyways? You think you're pretty good with signs, at least about things like this.

But it doesn't feel like flirting. He's never flirted with any of the students in class, despite how much they seem to fawn over him. Could this weird, psychological dance you've been doing for the last twelve weeks be some sort of unspoken foreplay ritual? 

The more you think about it, the less it seems implausible to you. There's a wave after that, some cross between impending doom and shameful arousal blooming up inside of you as everything hits you all at the same time. 

When you return to reality after being trapped in your thoughts, Nobara gives you a mindful (almost pitiful) smile and shakes her head. You frown at her in reply, squeezing the bridge of your nose. 

"If it were like literally anyone else, I'd totally tell them it's a bad idea. But it's not like you're going on to date him, and you're what - 24? because of your gap year so you're not a preteen like some of the freshmen in your class. I just don't see any reason not to go for it." 

You tamp down the small voice in the back of your head, encouraging you to do - and instead ask her a follow-up question. 

"...Do you think I should attend his office hours tomorrow, yes or no? I have to email him by tonight to get the one on one." 

"Yeah. Yes. And shave before you go." 

__

You decide, for the sake of your sanity and everyone else's - to ignore Nobara's odd implications about what Professor Getou wants from you and to attend his office hours.

(That's a partial lie, you figure - given the fact you did shave, and shower before attending. You're wearing something kind of nice underneath. But you still don't think he wants to fuck you. It's more of a safety precaution than anything else.)

 You made the game plan last night that you would go, present your idea, and then beg him to be kind to you during the grading process. You even developed a list of things to sob and cry about it to generate something of a sob story if everything went awry. You've forsaken your pride. The only thing that you need to get out of this meeting is a passing grade. 

And that is, of course, by any means necessary. 

Fearing for your life, the state of your mood improves as you approach the building hosting Professor Getou's office. Of all of the people you interact with semi-regularly on campus (all of which you are quite fond of), Nobara wasn't lying about your affection for campus security guard - Toji Fushiguro.

He's an older man. Older than you by double digits, and from what you can tell - older than even your professor. You've been fond of him ever since he brought you back to your dorm after a horrible break-up with your ex as a sophomore. He's got a rough edge, and there's plenty of unverified rumors of his past. You know that he has something of a criminal record too. 

But for all of those rumors, and for all the things you hear about him - he's been one of the highlights of your campus experience. You've had a one-sided school-girl crush on him ever since that night, because you were sober enough to catch his body and how it feels. He was strong. Not in an average way. He made it so effortless when he was carrying you home in his arms - and it's not the first time you've seen him lug around things at least over 300 pounds like they were nothing. 

But attractiveness aside, he is uncharacteristically good at cheering you up. He's funny and witty, all while maintaining a cool facade. He's endearing in his own way too, and you're a little head over heels for him though you'd never push yourself to make the first move. 

Still, when he sees you come towards the building - he greets you with a wide smile. The scar over his busted lip - split open and welcoming as you run up to him for a hug. He's normally patrolling around campus, so it feels lucky to catch him where you least expect. 

He wraps you up with a single arm, your feet temporarily lifting from the ground before you get put back down again. 

"Mr. Fushiguro, what are you doing here?"

"I got moved over here since there's been some rumor about someone stealing from the labs upstairs. So I'm on lock up duty for this building 'till it gets fixed up and solved," He says, voice as smooth as ice "What about you sweetheart? It's gonna get dark out soon." 

"Ah, I have office hours with Professor Getou today. I need to consult with him about a paper." 

"That right? Just gonna be you in there, then?" 

"Yep. I'm gonna go in there and beg him for a good grade on our next assignment. So for the sake of my sanity, please wish me luck?" 

Mr. Fushiguro tilts his head to one side, grinning. 

"Wouldn't that mean you graduate sooner instead of later? Can't wish ya luck on that." He says, making you flush and letting the feeling linger before continuing "Just kiddin'. A pretty face like yours should do you just fine. Knock 'em dead." 

"I feel a lot better about it with your encouragement." You say honestly. Mr. Fushiguro gives you a laugh.

"Treat me to something if my luck makes any difference. And hurry in. Last thing you'd wanna do is be late." 

You nod, wide-eyed and dazed by how charismatic he is before you rush into the building. It's silent, given how late in the school day it is. Most people have already gone home, with the exception of the other poor souls likely chasing down their professors for the same reasons as you. 

You feel an overwhelming sensation of dread as you encroach upon Professors Getou's office. There's no one else in the close vicinity, only a few closed classrooms and students who are passing by the small corner where his door resides - most of which are making their way to leave. 

You decide to take a deep breath, calming your shaken nerves before knocking politely once on his door and entering the room. 

Professor Getou's office looks like how you'd expect it to look. It's clean, and sleek - and lacking almost completely of items of personal effect with the exception of his desk. It's the first time you've ever been inside of the room before, but it smells distinctly of him. He has that same scent surrounding him, like flicks of nicotine and a hint of bergamot. Sweet with the taste of metallic bitterness, like blood and sugar.

You feel the back of your throat bob as you see your Professor sitting at his desk. It's lacking his usual gracefulness. His shirt is unbuttoned down by three entire buttons, and his slacks seem looser. Most notable is his hair - classically long, now in a loose bun with pieces falling all on his shoulders and rolling down his neck. 

You think of what Nobara said to you earlier in the day alone, a strange and overwhelming sensation of lust and embarrassment making it difficult for you to open your voice and talk.

It's Professor Getou who greets you first. He looks up from whatever he was reading and looks at you from where you stand awkwardly at his door. His smile widens, though it's just by a little. 

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd be here. Looks like you're right on time." He says first, sitting up in his chair but not bothering to gather himself in any way otherwise "Come on in and sit. I assume you're here to talk about your grade."

 You sit across from him hesitantly, hands folded in your lap as you put your bag down on the floor. 

He studies you quietly. There's a long stretch of silence, where neither of you do anything but sit in each other's company.

He breaks the silence first.

"So, while I have a guess," He says, elbows on his desk "Do you want to talk to me about what you're here for?" 

You've practiced the dialogue in your head so many times now. What to do and how to say what you need too, but the words seem to fizzle out completely when it's time to really say them. Leaving nothing but uncertainty, you open your mouth only to close it once again. 

"Uhm," Your voice strains trying to make the words out into a coherent sentence. "I came to talk about my paper. And my grade, like you mentioned in class."

"So you decided to heed my advice? Good girl, that was a smart choice," You try not to be taken aback by the pet name - unsure if it's as inappropriate as you think it is "Do you know what virtue you want to cover?" 

"I thought I would pick uhm, righteousness - and then pull from some of the Western ethics we learned about. Making uh, connections between deontological ethics and duty and how it relates to the defined idea of righteousness," You explain nervously, an uncomfortable laugh bubbling out of your throat "How practicing duty and righteousness relate to each other."

 "Hmm. Sounds like you've had time to think about it a little, then."

"I uhm, haven't finished the reading but I did take a look over my section to see if I could make it work." 

"I think you have something to work with. You'll need to straighten out the thesis of your paper into something more tangible. I know that's an ironic ask. But I think it's a good idea," He gives you a brief glance, studies you with eyes. Snake-like. Something coils inside of you, tickles and brushes against your skin and makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise "It seems like you have something more to tell me, though." 

Do you? Is there anything more there? The answer lies indifferently on a scale from obviously to no. nothing at all and it haunts you that he's able to pick it out. 

"It's just well. Uhm. You know, I don't have the best grade in this class so I was more prepared to go down with my grade. You approved quicker than I thought you would." 

"Your grade is pretty abysmal. Did you come in here planning to beg?" 

You refrain from an instant yes, even though it's what you feel. Something about the way he says it makes your stomach clench. Your heart quickens. Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth as you laugh uncomfortably. 

"Something like that? Uhm, or at least try to hash things out between us. I know our relationship over the c-course of the semester has been kind of sour so I…"

He cuts you off.

"Has it?" 

Your brain stutters to halt.

"Uhm. Yes?"

It's unpredictable, utterly and completely - the way he reflects on your words like you've said something incomprehensible. You aren't sure if that's sincere. You can't be sure if any of the words out of his mouth are. But he doesn't seem like he's lying. Your mind flashes to Nobara, and you find yourself speaking before you can stop it. It comes out like a flood.

 "I j-just always assumed you singled me out in class because you didn't like me? I don't mean to be accusatory, though."

"I'm afraid you've got the wrong idea," He says, shaking his head "I don't harbor any negative feelings for you at all."

"Oh," You say, eyes falling down to your lap again "Right, then." 

"You must be desperate for that passing grade, hm? If you're meeting with a professor you think hates you." 

You glance at him. 

"Well, yes. I want—need to pass this class. I've already planned my graduation for this semester." 

"And you'd be willing to do anything for that, is what you're implying?" 

"Yes," You say, with a sudden rush of unwavering confidence "Anything." 

"Let me ask you another question, then." He lets his elbows rest on the edge of his table, a familiar coy smile "Do you think there's any other reason for why I've been paying special attention to you, aside from me disliking you? You're a smart girl, so I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out." 

The weight of his words don't go unnoticed. The air feels heavy as it hangs between you. He couldn't be implying it so directly could he? Your mind drifts back to Nobara's warning to you, and your breath hitches. Your eyes widen as you glance up for the first time and give him a look of mild distress. 

And he smiles. His grin widens as soon as it dawns on you.

"Seems like you've reached an important conclusion," He says, casually - as he sits up in his chair and leans back. Stretched like nothing could get in his way "Why don't you share with the class?" 

"You," Your voice is a nervous tremor. You must be crazy. You must be completely out of your mind "...To sleep with me?" 

"See? I told you, you're a smart girl." 

The question is a burning one. One you've been wanting to ask since you started thinking about it last night. 

"B-but…why? And why me? A-and," 

"You have a tendency for being combative. You know that? An air of defiance. I can tell you're a little older than your peers. A little wiser, and a little more knowing of when to ask for help," Getou outlines, staring you down "And seeing you with that sense of desperation was exciting for me. I'm a man of simple tastes. At my age, I know what I want." 

"And I like when tough, combative, clever women turn into babbling, desperate, needy girls. I'm quite fond of it, actually." 

He's detrimentally serious. Your stomach flips. 

"Do you want to pass this class?" He asks you, an air of confidence surrounding him. You close your eyes, unsure if you can call it coercion when you're feeling so terribly willing about it. 

"Yes. I need to pass." 

"Then come up here," He gestures, widens his legs and leans back in his chair "And sit." 

Your body is burning. You don't know if you're even really in the situation, or if you've daydreamed it into something impossible. Something phantom moves you. Stands you to your feet shakily before walking in short strides. Professor Getou looks at you from where you stand over him. 

His hand brushes your outer thigh, patting it. 

"Sit." 

So you sit. You spread yourself and straddle your professor - and the reality dawns on you the minute you touch what you're doing. You haven't gotten laid in a bit, and he's nothing like anyone you've ever slept with. You feel out of your element. You get the impression he's a man, a grown one. There's a confidence in him that looms and looms and looms, overshadowing any of your doubt.

He's sexier up close. There's the faintest trace of smile lines on his expression as you look down at him. He guides your arms to loop around your neck, and holds your hips with his hands. 

Then you feel it, almost instantly - something hard and bulging pressing against the seam of your pants and against your crotch. He's already half-hard and he hasn't even kissed you. He grins at you lazily, like a cat with cream. 

"I'll pass you as soon as I put it in," His hands are so big - long, slender fingers gripping your ass "And give you extra credit when you cum for me. How's that sound?" 

You feel dirty. It's all happening so fast. Almost vulgar, but it's impossible to feel cheap. To believe in the wrongness of it when Professor Getou is so undeniably sexy. Wrong, on so many levels, to do this for the sake of your grade. Or just in general. Yet you want it, yearn for it, find the culmination of all your annoyances melting as he graces you himself. 

"I wanna pass," You say, uncharacteristically nervous about everything. You add the next part a little quieter "...I want it." 

"What do you want, exactly?" 

"Want you to fuck me." You admit, against your better judgment "Please?" 

"Gonna make a real pretty mess out of you," He says, voice smooth and serene. You look down at him. His knuckles brush against your jaw, on your cheek before his thumb holds on your lower mouth. His fingers push past the edge of your lips, sliding against your tongue and gently running along your teeth. He gags you on it, so slightly - enough to startle you but not enough to hurt. You feel spit pour from your lips. 

Thick messy strings of drool drip down the sides of your mouth. You want to back away in shame. But there's an air of intention behind the gesture. It's deliberate, the action - the mess and how it runs down your neck. Before you know it, he's kissing you in that same state. 

Professor Getou kisses like he's done it before.

His hands grip on your ass as he kisses hot and heavy. Self-assured, he sucks and bites at your mouth - sticking his tongue in and mixing his saliva with yours in a way that feels downright dirty. Yet it makes you throb, white-hot flames licking at the back of your thighs. The sparks of arousal crawl up your skin. 

Your nerves tighten as Professor Getou cups your face with one palm, kissing you with fervor. You melt into him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. 

"Been thinking about what you would look like bent over my desk all semester," He says as he pulls away, looking on with admiration at your messy complexion "You wanna go on ahead and show me?"

Another wave of embarrassment washes over you, but you find yourself standing to your feet. Sliding your sweats off down your legs - your lower half is left bare with the exception of your feet. You lay or stomach on his desk, the cold wood sending chills up your whole body and your stomach and tits lay flat and squishy against the hard material. You stand, shoulder width apart, and present yourself in front of him. 

"That's what I like to see," His voice is rich and deep as he speaks. You can feel him inch towards you, pulling you apart with his palms before his hand comes down on your ass in one hard motion. The noise echoes against the walls of the room "See, I knew you could listen well when you had to." 

You don't say anything in reply, pressing your cheek against the desk. 

"W-what do I call you?" You ask, your voice trembling. You feel his fingers against the seam of your panties. He snaps the cotton waistband against your skin before humming thoughtfully, a light tap to your ass. 

"Getou is fine. Suguru is too. Sir if that makes you more comfortable."

 Getou makes a show of fondling you, though you can't see it - you can feel the way his eyes nearly swallow your naked lower half. How his fingers touch and prod all of your sensitive places, with some kind of keen observation. Everything Getou says is like that, keen and particular.

"Such a pretty pussy on you. Would've been such a waste if you didn't come to me."

You don't bother to ask what he means by that. Behind you, there's a noise. Of a chair rolling back, and the dull thud of knees hitting the ground. Before you know what's happening, there's a face dangerously close to your clothed pussy. The minute you try to squirm, there's a tight grip keeping you in place. He takes a deep breath. Without any real hesitance, you feel his tongue lick across the clothed material. 

In one fell swoop, he pulls your panties to one side and kisses your clit without any more real introduction. You're gripping the edge of the table you're bent over as you feel his tongue slide against the wet folds of your pussy, making your voice cry out involuntarily. Normally people would urge you to be quiet, but you got the feeling he didn't care if anyone heard you crying out for him. You get a second wave of intuition telling you he might even like it. 

A sensation of bliss washes over you as he sucks hungrily at your cunt. It feels good enough to be holy. There's such immense expertise in it that you can't help but succumb to it completely. The warm, heavy muscle gliding over sticky folds.

You're so lost in the pleasure, your mind completely blocks out the intrusion. The sense that would detect another person in the room disappears completely. You only know because of Getou, the way he stops and scoffs. It forces you to blink your eyes open. He speaks before you get the chance. 

"What are you doing here?" 

You recognize the voice instantly, and your heart drops through your stomach. 

"Thought I heard a ghost howling," Mr. Fushiguro says, his voice is rougher and deeper and older "Turn out it was just a little girl wanderin' into the woods." 

"If you can see I'm busy, why're you still here?"

You can't help but feel the second wave of overwhelming shock as you sit there, naked and unafraid. Still, they stand like nothing is wrong. Chat like they know each other somehow, but you have no idea in which way. All you can focus on is the bubbling, nauseating shame. 

"Oh god." You voice, but both others ignore. Mr.Fushiguro speaks first.

"This one is off-limits, Suguru. What kinda professor goes around fuckin' their innocent little students?"

"Just the one, Mr. Fushiguro. And I'd like to get back to business."

"Ah, no way I'm letting you off the hook. I could report this y'know? Make headlines. Ethics professor coerces student into sexual activity. It'd be big. 

Your heart drops. 

"Fuck off, would you? Does she look coerced?" 

A beat of silence. "Nah. Not with the way she's twitchin'. But it's not fun if I just let you go. How about you tap me in and I'll keep your little secret hm? She's gotta cute crush on me already."

Your heart flounces around in your chest, a muffled noise of shock escaping your lips as you squirm to move but are held, still, so firmly in place. Your expression and feelings all go through 5 stages of grief before settling at dumbfounded. They don't especially ask for your input, but you hear Professor Getou behind you.

"Fine, if it'll get you to shut up. And I'm fucking her first."

Strange. Nothing about today makes any sense. You don't miss the almost childish sense of competition in Getou's voice that changes your view of him in an instant. Humanizes him in the strangest and most unrecognizable ways. It lacks his usual virtue.

Mr. Fushiguro walks up in front of you, imposing. He's grinning, a well-worn smile on his face that you know. He helps you up, and you keep yourself upright on your arms as he grabs your chin with his palms. You look up at him wide-eyed, unsure of what to do.

"Dirty fucking girl aren't ya?" He says, though he almost sounds like he's impressed with himself 

"You into older men or is it a coincidence you're screwing 'im for your grade?"

You're speechless, and you moan a little pathetically as Getou doesn't stop eating you out. This only seems to make Mr. Fushiguro even more excited. You look up at him through wet lashes, unsure of what to do.

"Don't mind either way, just curious. Guess I'm a little sad 'cause I thought your little heart eyes around me made me special," He tells you this looking down at you, eyes locked. You can tell he's just teasing you, and it makes you twitch "But I guess that's not true, is it?"

"You're different. I uhm. Well it's true at least."

"Yeah? You're just letting both of us fuck you 'cause you're like a bitch 'n heat?"

You flush. He gives you a smile and a well-meaning laugh that makes your body feel warm with heat.

"Mind if we're a little rough on you, sweetheart?"

You shake your head.

"Good. Stick your tongue out and open your mouth for me then."

You listen, oblige the instructions almost obediently. Your face is still covered with spit from before. You watch idly, intently - as Mr. Fushiguro pulls his cock out from his black pants. The loose material covers him well, but as soon as they're down past his thighs - the outline of his cock borders on intrusive. Your eyes widen, fluttering and unfocused because it's hard to think about anything while feeling such intense pleasure.

But Mr. Fushiguro is captivating as he pulls himself out for you. His cock is thick and heavy, protruding but too much that it can't stand up on its own. Weighed down by gravity, you stare at it wide-eyed. It's the size of your forearm, so thick you can't possibly imagine what it feels like.

Your heart stammers. 

"It won't fit in my mouth." You say, gasping for air as if you're already suffocating on it "You're—you're so huge."

He laughs with an edge of snark. You blink at him in complete seriousness, taken aback. He lets the tip of his cock tap the plushness of your cheek before pressing against your lips. You stare at him, almost afraid.

"Of course it'll fit," He says in confidence "Just gotta make sure you're relaxed. So relax, sweetheart, and open your mouth for me." 

Hesitantly, you open your mouth wide. You feel the corners of your lips stretch around the intrusive, thick head of Mr. Fushiguro's cock. The taste of sweat and skin is invasive and heavy, violating your senses. Just the tip and it barely fits in your mouth. You try and concentrate, sticking your tongue out and curling it around the underneath of his cock, focusing on sucking just the tip. He groans above you, a hand on the back of your head. He doesn't force you down, but you can tell by the twitch in his fingers that he wants to.

"Look at you," He says, his voice coarse with restraint and desire "You're drooling on my cock while you're professors busy eatin' your pussy. Thought you were an innocent girl, but now I don't know what to believe."

He says this as he eases more into your mouth, slowly letting you adjust. He rocks his hips back and forth until you relax. You open yourself up, trying to focus on blowing him.

But a hand comes down on your ass, hard and heavy - making you yelp. The noise is muffled but audible. A short squeal, you can't turn your head to look 

"Don't you think you two are getting too comfortable upfront without me? I'm the one who decides your grades."

"Maybe you're not doing good enough for her to care."

You can feel a strange sense of competition between them, but you're too occupied to ask about it. How do they know each other, and for what reason do they seem so automatically hostile? It bothers you, but you can't think about it too hard.

"That's not true. Her pussy is soaking fucking wet." He punctuates his words with a harsh smack against your cunt, the force rippling through your as you bend forward and choke "Almost as messy as her face."

He's quick, again, to latch himself to your clit. He flicks it with his tongue, licking it mercilessly as your brain starts to fog up with desire. Like he's trying to prove a point, you moan around Mr. Fushiguro's cock as your pleasure starts to thrum up again. The back of your legs tense, trembling as a knot begins to uncoil in your lower stomach. The cock in your mouth moves too, using the distracted moans to ease himself even deeper into the wet, arm cavern of your mouth. 

Your head feels heavy, body weak as the both of them use you to their contents. Your stomach starts to stir as a familiar feeling of euphoria claws at you. 

You cum for the first time like that, your body pressed against a wood desk - restrained and under careful watch of two men. Your whole body explodes - white, hot nerves fraying off and ricocheting off your ribs inside of you. Your insides shake as the wave of an orgasm washes over your entire body. You gasp, clenching down hard and gasping as tremors of orgasm pulse and push through your whole body. Something in you ignites as you grip the edge of the desk for your life, trying to keep yourself upright as Getou pushes you through the orgasm. 

You've barely recovered when Mr. Fushiguros pulls out of your mouth, pressing his spit-soaked cock against your face and cheeks with a smile. You let it slide against your tongue, eyes fluttering open as your face gets covered in precum and saliva. 

"You look so fucking filthy right now, you know that? But it looks good on you. I'm dying to fuck you." 

"Mr. Fushiguro," You groan. He clicks his teeth. 

"Toji's just fine sweetheart." 

You whimper helplessly as you ride out your high. Behind you, your professor pulls away. You peek behind you to see him, flush as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Toji looks down at your frazzled expression with a grin, teeth showing as he cups your jaw a second time and slides his cock back in one go. This time, he pushes his cock in the base - keeping your throat around him with a hand on the back of your head. 

"Just focus on me for now, baby. Focus on sucking me off, yeah? Just like that, easy easy. He's gonna open you up. Stretch you nice and make your pussy all sloppy. That's what you want right?" 

Getou leans over you, the weight of his body looming as you feel slender fingers slide through your sticky folds. His middle and index brush against your abused clit, rubbing a few circles into it before pulling away. He grabs your arms and positions them behind your back, gripping them in one hand to keep you restrained. You squirm against the gesture, unable to get any leeway as he holds you down. Then you feel his fingers move, middle finger catching on your wet hole as it trembles and sticks. He opens you up like this without any warning. 

His middle finger goes first - delicately intrusive as your pussy widens to accommodate him. They're so much bigger than yours. Just one feels like two of your own. You push back out of instinct but Getou doesn't let you move. He buries himself, pushing in and out until he's able to fuck your pussy all the way down to the knuckle. Once there's no longer any resistance, he pulls back and makes room for another. The sensation is duller, lets you clear your head and think even as Toji rubs his cock on your face and fucks your mouth in short ruts. 

Not enough to make you choke, but enough to smear something hot and nasty all over you. 

Professor Getou repeats the process with his pointer, pushing and stretching and opening until you can't fight it anymore. With two fingers, he scissors them trying to make your insides soft enough for him to take you. 

"You're stretching out for me like it's nothing. You must be turned on, hm? Like getting all your holes used like this? Getting your face-fucked by a man old enough to be your father?" 

Toji laughs harshly, smacking your face lightly, enough it doesn't hurt but enough to make you feel it. 

"She loves it. She's clenching down on you tight ain't she?" 

"Sure is. All this for a grade. Maybe I should've bullied you about it a little more first. Since you're so eager." 

"Gonna give her extra credit for this?"

"I should deduct points for the fact you're even near here."

He laughs good-naturedly at this point, and you're still having trouble making sense of their relationship. You manage to speak for the first time in forever, voice barely there as you go to question them. You're not expecting any solid answers. 

"How do you two know each other?" You ask, before Toji starts fucking your mouth again 

"Goes a long way back. And we're still on bad terms, so congrats on bringing us together, sweetheart. Kind of an expected reunion really." 

"He's been working here since Professor Gojo and I were students here and we knew him from before. A long story. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." 

The burning question is quick to fade out of your mind as you feel your professor's clothed bulge rest against your cunt. You moan, a clipped needy sound as you nearly beg him to fuck you. Toji bends over you this time, reaching back to spread your pussy open by grabbing your ass. You can feel the grip of his hands, strong and assured. 

"She's gettin' impatient. Give it to her." 

"Don't need your help with that." Getou spits, irritation sounding in his words. 

"Consider it an apology." 

The air of tension is there temporarily, before Getou pulls his cock from the confines of his boxers. You can't see it, eyes squeezed tight as you work your mouth and tongue Toji's length. You can feel it though. He makes a show of rubbing his cock against your puffy, sore cunt. You get a feel for its shape as he pushes it between your thighs and lets it cling in between your lips. Professor Getou's cock is longer and more narrow, but it curves upright. It's hard, throbbing between your legs. Whining helplessly you wiggle your ass again. You feel increasingly restless about needing something inside of you. You're still bound though, completely and utterly unable to move. Toji's hand comes down heavy on your ass as you do, clicking his teeth in faux irritation. 

"Don't fucking move unless you want my handmark on your ass forever," He says, his voice cool and forgiving "Impatient." 

Getou must feel something inside of him merciful enough to keep you waiting. Even with all the stretching and prep, the minute you feel the head of your cock push through - something inside of you snaps. It's still so big, still too much, still reaches a part of you so deep you didn't know it was there. The position itself - still being on your stomach, makes it reach so much farther than other positions. The raw, skin-to-skin contact leaves your tummy fluttering, skin prickling with heat. Your top is pushed up enough to expose your lower back and your skin is pulsing. You feel like your whole body is on fire, suspended between men so much older than that want nothing more than to fuck you.

Every time you try to wiggle away from the sensations, Toji's hand comes down heavy on your backside. It doesn't matter how minuscule the movement. If he gets the idea that you're going to try and pull away, he spanks you hard enough that the room echoes with the sound. Your skin tingles, phantom sensation left before as you're held open and made to take your professor's cock - obedient and wanting. 

Inch by miserable inch, it takes forever to take him down to the base. Your toes curl, eyes shut and mouth sloppily trying to keep up with the cock in your mouth and just barely succeeding. 

He groans behind you, shuddering 

"That's incredible," He praises, and it feels so good to hear him saying something so overtly kind you don't know if you want to laugh or cry "Your pussy is fucking incredible. Shit."

"You hear that? You gotta. Pussy's twitchin' like crazy. Ass is too, how cute." 

"Feels sho good," You slur, brain clear of any and all rational thought as a string of saliva drips down your chin "Please fuck me, please,"

"You heard her teach."

Toji lets go of you and returns back to where you are. He pulls his cock away from you, instead holding you up and cupping your mouth open. He kisses you, after everything - with all of his pre-spend in your mouth before spitting into it harshly and kissing it again.

"Such a pretty face you're makin' right now." He says, something of a warm and unprecedented affection to it "So excited to get your pussy filled up."

He leans you on him, lets you wrap around his midriff, and squeeze tight while he pets the back of your hair in a strange streak of affection. You don't know what to make of anything. All you can feel is the long cock pounding into you without any mercy. Razor-sharp thrusts, nudging against your swollen g-spot and pounding into your cunt with immeasurable force. A man so much older than you is fucking you, pounding your pretty little pussy, and turning you into a complete mess. He's meant to be a mentor to you, but he has his cock imprinting itself inside of you over and over and over.

Your stomach feels hot again, but some other feeling takes you over as Toji cradles you - watching you just as intently. He talks you through with confidence you can't entirely understand.

"Yeah, that's it. Tighten up for him, just like that. Feels good doesn't it? I know baby, I know."

You whine out in Toji's arms as he talks you through it. Behind you, you feel Getou's grip hold you tight as he pistons you. The sound of his thighs smacking against your ass is noisy, almost as noisy as your pussy. Slick wet, sounding each time he thrusts.

"I'm not gonna last like this, shit." He pumps into you a few more types before his hips stutter to a halt. He cums with his cock buried deep inside of you, filling you all the way to the brim. You feel his white, hot seed fill your belly, cock twitching as he unloads and makes your legs shake.

A sense of emptiness overwhelms you as Getou pulls out, landing a hit on your ass as he shakes. He kisses your spine. 

The two of them switch places without communicating with each other about it. Getou pulls out, and away - coming back in front of you and picking you up in his arms as Toji positions himself behind you. He spreads your cunt out with his fingers, examining the seed left over with a light laugh. 

"Gonna fuck into your sloppy little cunt, give you another load where you need it and make you cum." Toji says, not hesitating at all. You feel your breathing start to quicken as he takes the same positions as before. 

Toji doesn't neglect touching you as his arm curls around your waist, calloused fingertips brushing against your clit before his cock pushes into you. Your pussy takes him much easier, but even so - Toji is just so thick, you can't help but feel him all over again. This time, Getou has you in his arms, holding and guiding you. Your hands are curled around his bicep and lower spine as you're held up. 

Toji's thrusts are slower, but just as rhythmic - focused on bringing you to another orgasm. It's duller this time, the sensation more focused and spread. Toji is so big you feel it in your hips, your entire lower half tingling as he pumps his cock in and out of you. He gives you all of his attention, staving off his own orgasm as Getou encourages you with his own words. 

"Gonna cum again, pretty? Take another man's cum in you right after me? You want to, right? Take it all in, every drop. You've earned it."

You feel your insides tighten again, for a second time - in a miraculous span. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts as both sensations work in tandem to bring you closer to your edge. 

Your nerves fire off a second time as you push yourself to the limit. Toji fucks you through another orgasm with ease, thrusting with each tremor until you've ridden out your high. His own orgasm and chase come not long after that fact. 

As soon as you've gone totally limp underneath him, he sheaths himself as deep as he can. Bent over you, he cums hard and deep, filling you to the brim a second time.

There's a brief moment of silence as Toji rides out his high, where all three of you sit in silence.

You find yourself limp as you lay there, Toji pulling out and Getou slowly letting you down before you look up with a tired expression. 

"...So, did I pass?"

Your professor laughs harder than you've ever seen him laugh.

"With flying colors."

[konigsblog]

jealous, stepbrother-simon riley...

warnings: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, rape, guilt tripping, coercion, manipulation, dark content. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

PHOTO CREDIT: @AVE661

your stepbrother finds a sickening form of enjoyment by manipulating and guilt tripping you into getting whatever he wants. it's no surprise—or at least it shouldn't be—that your stepbrother can't help himself when it comes to you. he claims it's just him being overprotective with his beloved stepsister, but deep down, simon's gut churns with rage and jealousy when he sees that man, claiming his spot as your boyfriend.

you deserve better—deserve someone that knows you so well, that being simon. he doesn't enjoy seeing your boyfriend, and will snarl at the hickeys on your neck. it makes him sick, and he'll force tears to run down his cheeks, ranting about how lonely he is, how desperate he is to feel something, how being in the military leaves him pathetically lonely, with no time for relationships...

his pitiful sobs leave you feeling guilty, ashamed of yourself—as if you belong to simon. he'll convince you to ride him, or to jerk him off, or even suck his lengthy cock for hours to make it up to him. if you don't comply, he'll take it for himself, telling you through forced weeps how desperate he is—how cruel and horrible you are to refuse and reject him, as if you truly have a choice.

his large and calloused hands forcefully pry your supple thighs open, insatiable and hungry off the scent of your drooling, sweet pussy. the sight of your warm heat leaves simon beyond desperate, as he rubs his bulbous cock back and forth, taunting your clit before easing inside, his breathing quick as he holds you down and thrusts gently, shaming you for being ungrateful. he ‘protects’ you all the time, and yet, you refuse to simply repay him by spreading your folds and allowing him to sink inside that cunny of yours?

he layers your skin in bruises and hickeys, his voice guttural as he shames you for being with that man, for denying him of the right to fuck your pretty pussy. each harsh and deep thrust leaves your body shaking and trembling, tight cunt weeping and slick, morphed to fit simon's cock as you sob out at the ache.

you take him so well—you're all he wants and desires, lovie. what don't you understand? you're made for each other, give in to simon. :(

[rinhaler]

Can you do something like a mutual Masturbation with uncle!Nanami that leads to us having sex because he's so needy like he just NEEDS and CRAVES to be inside us.

-Very Much embarrassed Anon 🫂

pls don't tell me I'm the uncle nanami blog 😭 not my intention but im always happy to serve 🍽️

warnings: 18+, coercion, age gap, faux/incest (not clarified), use of 'uncle nanamin', m + f masturbation, tit sucking, praise, vaginal sex, creampie, squirting!!, implied virgin!reader, pussy spanks.

words: 1k

“Gooood girl, just like that.” your uncle coos against your bare shoulder, looking down at where your thighs straddle his and your fingers play with your swollen, needy clit at his command. He grunts, quietly, as he jerks himself off to the sight. The scent of sex and want fills the room as do the sticky sounds of you touching yourselves and the agonising grunts of desperation knowing that this will have to be enough and it’s all that will ever be enough.

“L-Love y— I love you. Uncle Nanamin—!” you manage to stutter out. Passion consuming you as your clit throbs desperately to be allowed to cum. The loving praise from Nanami is more than enough to topple you over that greedy edge, but eager fingers keep toying and playing and aching as you want nothing more than to cum for him.

He carefully moves your arm so that you’re clinging onto his shoulder for balance. Your hips rock against his thigh, the muscles and ridges forcing you to beg for forgiveness as you climb closer and closer to the edge of bliss. Nanami won’t stop you, though, he loves you too much for that. He uses his free hand to guide your tit to his lips, suctioning around your hardened nipple as he continues to stroke his cock with ardour.

You cum, messily. Pussy gushing all over his leg and dripping down onto the floor below. He gasps, beguiled. Eyes filled with a hunger you’ve never seen before. He didn’t know you could do that. You didn’t know you could do that, either.

Maybe you just love him that much.

Your love for Uncle Nanamin is cascading from your cunt because you can’t keep it all in. Not when you so seldom get time alone with him like this. You’re always missing him when he’s away on business trips and when you do have time together your family is nearby. But now, it’s just you two. And you want to be perfect for him.

With a performance like that, though, he couldn’t see you as anything but a perfect angel.

“Did that feel good, sweetheart? You’re shaking… poor thing.” he mumbles with purpose against your skin. Each word surging to your throbbing bead and desperate to have more. You want to cum again. You look pathetic as your hand flies to your sex and your rubbing hurriedly again just so you can hear him say more sweet words to you and make you feel oh so special. “Stay right there.” he orders you, calmly, and it sounds more like a request.

You can barely put up a fight as he moves you carefully. Your legs no longer straddling his leg, just his waist and he takes it upon himself to distract you by sucking at your raised nipple once again.

“I’m sorry, princess, I shouldn’t be doing this…” he says quietly as he lines up his cockhead with your tight virgin slot, kissing your exposed skin again and again as he tries to ease himself in. “She’s made for me, yeah? Ohhhhh — fuck — you’re so tight. Such a good girl f’me…”

“Ah.. aaah—!” you moan and hiss ever so slightly as you feel his heavy shaft split open your untouched walls. You shouldn’t be doing this, he’s right. But you can’t possibly begin to care when your favourite uncle is giving you so much attention. So much love and so much of him.

He moves you like you’re nothing. Holding your sides and lifting you up and down slowly again and again as he alternates between kissing your skin and your supple tits. It gets easier. With each and every pummel of his tip against your soft, spongy spot it gets so much fucking easier. He covers your mouth as your moans become unruly.

“Sh… sh sh shhhh, princess… as pretty as you sound you can’t be too noisy, or you’ll get in so much trouble.” he reminds you. Tears spill from your eyes and run down his large, veiny hand. “Messy girl. Drooling and crying all over my hand, s’cute.” he grins.

You feel weightless as he uses you like you’re a doll. His perfect little doll made to take him in every sense of the word. You yelp against his suffocating palm when you feel his free hand come down and lightly spank your clit.

“What about her? Is she gonna be a messy girl for me?” he moans, feeling himself getting so close to spilling his seed inside of you. You shiver, his sloppy kisses leaving behind trails of spit that cool your body with every thrust. “I want to make a mess of you, sweetheart. Please… please let me.” he begs. You’ve never heard him like this. So desperate and needy and pleading for you to give him the answer he so craves.

“A-Anything—” you start, your head lolling back as you lose all composure. “Wan’ you to f-feel good, Uncle N-Nanamin!” you tell him.

With a few more desperate frenzied thrusts and delicate rubs of your sensitive core, you cum harder than you ever have before using your tiny fingers. He can’t help but admire the way you cream for him. Clear liquid shoots from your cunt and makes a mess of yourself, your uncle, and the bed beneath. And he can barely admire it, the sight being too much for him as he follows you into your high. You feel your insides turn warm as his cum fills your body.

His chest rises and falls dramatically as he fucks all he can into your cunt, but he can’t deny you as your face searches eagerly for his. You need to feel his lips on yours and he reciprocates instantly, wanting to assure you that you’re loved and he’s proud. You’re always such a perfect girl for him, his sweet angel.

He’s usually so coolheaded. Always in control and knows how to handle his wants and desires. But when it comes to you, he’s hopeless. How could he resist his cute little niece? Always so eager to please and keen to be with him. You’ve always been so affectionate and loving with him. So he had to have you.

And you have to give him anything he wants. Because you love your Uncle Nanamin.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[lilyflxwers]

james definitely resorted to crystals to try get reg to like him

[loupetlapinn]

𝟐:𝟑𝟕 𝐚𝐦

t/w: intox, dubcon, noncon, coercion, forced breeding if you squint kinda maybe idk, unprotected sex. a/n: MDNI. basically a continuation of my drunk post lmao. this is Also unbetad. also i may be delirious. felt cute might delete later. synopsis: just a . . . casual drink with cheol pt 2. w/c: don't ask. feel free to block me.

His breath on your neck has you squirming in place, the humidity spreading over the expanse of exposed skin.

“It’s like this is what you wanted all along,” his condescending voice echoing in your ear. 

Your reply nothing but a whimper as his fingers slip over slick folds, teasing.

“You poor thing.”

Every syllable sliding off his tongue seeps their way into your ears, numbing your senses further. You offer a small whimper in your current state but it does nothing but encourage his attentions. Firm hands soothing over bare skin, tracing over curves and slopes as your chest rises and falls.

“That's it, baby,” he purrs, bulbous head of his cock teasing your quivering entrance. “Taking me so nicely.”

Your breath stuttering, eyes rolling back as your clumsy limbs arrange themselves. Desperately grasping at the closest pillows, knuckles blanching with the stretch of every inch sinking into your barely prepped heat. 

“So fucking wet,” he muses, the pad of his thumb circling your hypersensitive clit as you jump at the sensation. “I’ve barely touched you . . . That’s all it takes? A few drinks and you’re drenched and spreading your legs so easily for me?”

“Cheol . . .” mumbled words and muffled noises follow, slurred “mphm’s” and short little gasps following as your eyes roll back. Repeating his name until you’re able to do so with a hint of coherence rather than a jumble of noises strewn together. “Cheol . . . I-I’m not—” you hiccup your words, trying to keep your train of thought. Which was practically impossible from the warmth of alcohol thrumming through your veins and the incessant throb of Seungcheol’s cock as he bullies his way further inside of your fluttering cunt.

“Not what?” he coos. If you had any presence of mind, you might’ve noticed the condescending tone that laces his every word. The smug grin that pulls lazily at the corners of plush lips, dark gaze hooded and hungry as he takes in every minuscule reaction you have to offer through your thick haze. “Big girl words, c’mon.”

He can’t help but snicker as your mouth opens but nothing intelligible follows.

“You know how long I’ve been thinking of this?” he grunts with a rough snap of his hips slapping against the flushed skin of your thighs, earning himself yet another pitched mewl from your lips. “This pretty little cunt wrapped around me— Fuck. Gonna cry for me this time, mhm? Or will I have to try a little harder?”

“Seungcheol ‘m not . . .” you fist at his shirt, eyes screwed shut as you can’t handle the way the room spins as you squirm beneath his broad frame, “. . . n-not— can’t . . .please, Cheol, please.”

“Not what, baby, mhm? Can’t what?” he mocks, eyes transfixed on the swell of your breasts as they jostle with every move, “It seems like you can. Look at you, greedy, taking my cock like this.”

“H-hurts, Cheol, it hurts.” Your hand haphazardly slapping around to find his hips, trying to push at him. If anything, it only encourages his ruthless pace.

“Hurts?” A thick brow arches, a firm hand snatching your jaw as he peers through dark lashes, scrutinizing you. “You want it to hurt?”

Glassy eyes that peer back at him only make his dick twitch in your vice like grip. Watching as you attempt to shake your head as his grasp is nearly bruising, squishing your cheeks to pout your moistened and bruised lips. Lips he can’t help but smash his own against, ignoring your noises of disapproval as his tongue intrudes past the seam of those lips of yours. His hips as relentless as his mouth as he drills you into the bed. A considerably violent slam eliciting a rather loud cry from you that he hungrily swallows down between your sloppy lip lock.

He only pulls away to mouth his way along your jawline, dipping lower and lower with every lave of his tongue and graze of his teeth. A hand coming palm over your breasts, squeezing, guiding a pert mound into his mouth to suction lewdly around it. The filthy noise almost rivals the debauched squelch of where your bodies fused together.

Your body felt like a live wire. Everything was happening too quickly all at once. Even you couldn’t believe the noises that only continued to fall from your lips.

“Fuck . . .” A finger of his once again snakes down between the both of you, finding your sensitive clit, “Want you to cum on my cock, I know you can.”

The noises you make as he pushes you closer to climax only drags him along with you. Your writhing beneath him pouring fuel on the fire. “Don’t fight it, baby. You’re squeezing so tight, I know you want it.”

“Cheol— Cheol, please!”

He’s enraptured with the way your body trembles and quakes beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you. Choking out a few grunts at the way you seize around him so drastically.

“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked,” he hisses, fucking you through your release without remorse. “Gonna make a mess of this cunt.”

It was almost as if he plows forward with renewed energy, determined to follow through on his word.

“W-wait . . . Wait, Cheol, pull out. I’m not on birth control. Please.” There they were, those pretty tears, Seungcheol knew you had it in you. Crystalline as they begin to trickle down blotchy cheeks. “Pull out! Cheol, please, I can’t . . . I can’t!”

“You can,” he insists, “but, you are.” Between your tears, your pleas and the cry of his name as it sounds from your mouth. There isn’t an inkling of a chance Seungcheol was pulling out, definitely not now. “I’ll show you.”

His release spills past your entrance with the sheer amount that floods your abused walls, quivering weakly around him as he catches his breath above you. Rocking his hips gingerly into as he gives himself time to come down, feeling him gradually soften before he’s slowly dragging his length from your core.

“See,” his fingers root in your hair, guiding your face to look downwards. Your eyes following his blearily as his cum leaks from your puffy cunt.

“You can after all.”

[engagemythrusters]

good lord the Israeli hostages will come back and wave happily at their captors and say a nice goodbye to them and then also talk about how kindly they were treated by Hamas and all the Zionists will go “well they’re being coerced!” (This is conjecture) and meanwhile freed Palestinians prisoners will go “we were treated HORRIBLY” despite having EVERYTHING TO LOSE for saying so out loud (this is public fact)… sooooo… y’know. There’s that.

[revehae]

all the rage

pairing ↠ nerd!mark x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, dubcon, nerd!mark, virgin!mark, coercion/blackmail, unprotected sex, nonconsented recording, oral, implied bimbo!reader

summary ↠ mark is sick and tired of being ignored by you and only being worthful when you need to get your homework done. meanwhile, you don’t hesitate to flash your body to any stupid jock. so, he cooks up the perfect plan - blackmail.

wc ↠ 4.5k

a/n ↠ part 3/5 of the college-capades series!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it was never difficult for mark, or any other student, to conclude whether or not you’d walked into a room. either there would be a crude cacophony of whistles from boys or none too subtle whispers from girls that wrenched their faces in contempt.

mark wanted to give them all, man or woman, a very large, unforgiving piece of his mind. the men that sat there, laughing and smirking amongst themselves, lusting over what should’ve only been his. the women that rolled their eyes and blatantly disrespected you to obscure their own insecurities.

still, you never paid those girls even half the mind they were indebted to you, parading over to a popular athlete it was no secret most girls would sell an arm and a leg for and sitting squarely on his lap. like clockwork, the chosen boys would drape you in a blanket of attention, and you’d do something adjacent to giggling and leaning flush against their chests. whereas mark was left in the corner of the room to sulk and brood, never afforded more than a cute smile and a compliment. the sight of you with other men filled him with unadulterated jealousy and rage.

this week, it was jung jaehyun you were after like a pack of hyenas, the captain of the basketball team. only a couple of weeks before, it was lee jeno, the star player of the hockey team.

it felt as if you were deliberately spreading your legs for anyone that wasn’t mark, making it a point to remind him that he was just a tool in your pocket. he beat his brain out trying to decipher why it was that you’d yet to have given yourself to him. he knew it was not because you were apparently friends. you had fucked anyone from your friends to even your eng lit professsor.

it wasn’t like your qualifications extended only to athletes, and even if they did, mark was literally a member of the basketball team. maybe it was because he was something of a nerd, never not found with his nose in a book, but mark had proven himself more useful to you than any of the undeserving boys you’d given chances to. when he tutored you and let you borrow his notes, all he received was a thank you and a grateful kiss to the cheek. but had anyone else lent you a favor - or even looked at you a certain way - your mouth would fall much, much lower.

today, you’d been clinging to jaehyun, laughing at seemingly every little thing he said. the sight of you together, your bodies so close and jaehyun’s hand at your very exposed thigh, ignited white hot rage within mark, though he willed himself to remain calm. he was clever and that was his advantage. you’d never see his plan coming, and then you would have no choice but to be his.

unbeknownst to you, mark had overheard your conversation with professor kim doyoung the other day, not failing to note that he had a special meeting scheduled with you. you were so busy, like one dick would never be enough for you. as soon as mark knew, he hid a camera in the office, and there was only a matter of time before you fell desperately into his clutches.

that was why when he saw jaehyun in the locker room that day, and overheard his teammates talking about you, mark breathed with more ease and less ire, for the most part tuning out their conversation.

johnny pulled out his phone and called his teammates around to take a look. “look at this fucking bimbo.”

one of them, haechan, grinned mischievously and nudged jaehyun in the side. “yo, you tap that yet, jay?”

jaehyun chuckled, replying, “nah, but she gave me top in the back of my car. took that shit like a champ. she said she’ll let me hit if we win tonight, though.”

jaemin snorted and said, “pfft. i bet she’d fuck you even if we lose. but i know one thing - a slut like that is getting it from somewhere else if she’s waiting that long.”

when mark saw that picture of you on johnny’s phone, everything else became white noise. he was trying not to grow hard at the sight of you, though judging from their dialogue, his fellow teammates were obviously a hell of a lot more shameless. he shoved the thought of jaehyun fucking you out of his brain, only tantalized by thoughts of him and you.

that night, they won. 

you were walking around with a limp to your steps the following day, giddy and carefree. mark could only guess why, but he refused to think of you with anyone that wasn’t him. he was a man on a mission.

when mark approached you, you blinked in surprise, johnny, though shot him an inviting smile. more often than not, you tended to forget he was even there. he was always in his own little world. you greeted, “hi, markie. can i help you?”

mark cleared his throat and realized that he probably should have planned what he was going to say in advance. being so close to you never failed to make his brain slam on the brakes. “i, um, have to show you something.”

you cocked a brow. “like what?”

“it’s a secret,” mark insisted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “will you come with me?”

you shrugged. “sure.” as far as you were concerned, you’d gauged mark to be relatively harmless.

mark gave you a bashful little smile, and you grabbed your bag before leaving, letting him lead the way. whatever he had in store for you, you were none the wiser.

mark was fighting a sly little grin. so far, so good. if all went smoothly, it would only be the two of you at the dorms for a while, meaning mark could do as he pleased. sure, a college dorm wasn’t the ideal place to hook up with you for a number of reasons, but he knew that he would have you nice and controlled in a matter of moments.

in the corridor, you clung to mark’s side, resting your head against his body, and broke the silence to remark, “you smell good.”

mark, flushed, stammered, “thank you.”

you stifled a snicker. it was no secret that mark had something of a crush on you (as many boys did), and you enjoyed stirring reactions out of him every once in a while. he had always been shy, but whenever you came into the equation, it was like his whole system shut down. needless to say, you found it cute.

though inside mark’s head, none of it was ever enough for him. he didn’t see it as you innocently flirting with him. he took it as you toying with him, poking fun at him. like you were trying to ridicule him by shoving his reactions in his face and tell him that that was why you never gave him the time of day. he was just a pawn in an even bigger game, but not anymore. all of that came to an end today.

mark unlocked the door and took you to his room. you took a couple of glances around the place as you walked through the hallway. it was empty.

sitting your bag down on his bed, you asked sweetly, “so, what did you have to show me?”

you were a little surprised, and confused, when mark pulled out his phone of all things. he simply shoved it in your face and his tiny smile dropped when he asked expressionlessly, “is this you?”

your eyes flickered. to your horror, it was a video of you getting railed by doyoung in his office. you remembered feeling inexplicably watched, but doyoung had taken no risks when it came to getting caught, because he had a career at stake. your face was very clear in the video, lips parted while you moaned your professor’s name, and to make matters worse, his voice was audible, doyoung growling, “keep clenching around my dick like that and you’ll never fail another test.”

mark chuckled at the sight of the blood draining from your face, the realization settling in, and he asked, “wouldn’t it be funny if the whole school got this video?”

you reached out, trying to grab the phone, but mark lifted it over your head. 

“ah, ah, ah,” he sang, taunting. “this is mine.”

you cried out, “mark, you can’t show this to anyone!”

“well, no, actually. i think i can,” mark hummed, pretending to ponder his options. “there’s many different ways. i could post it on a website, you know. title it ‘young whore gets railed by her own professor.’ or i could send it in the team group chat and let them do all the heavy lifting.”

you fell down to your knees, tears in your eyes as you crouched before him and begged, “mark, please. i just wanted to get a good grade. i’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t show anyone. this will ruin me.”

that piqued mark’s interest. “whatever i want?”

you bobbed your head, wiping tears from your face with the back of your hand, and traveled your hand up his leg as you realized he was already pathetically hard. “is there anything i can… help you with?”

mark sat at the edge of his bed, grunting, “take a wild guess.”

you knew what that meant, lifting your hands to remove his pants. mark helped you take off his underwear, bundling at his ankles with the rest of his clothes. his hard cock stood thick against his stomach, desperately angry too, just like the rest of him.

mark watched you lick a stripe down your hand before grabbing his cock in your fist, stroking him up and down. after imagining this moment for a thousand days and a thousand nights, his bare cock in your skilled hands, his dreams were finally becoming a reality. there were many times in the months that mark had been silently aching for you that he fisted his own cock, pretending it was you.

“fuck,” mark groaned, eyes closing.

part of him was in disbelief. this whole time, all it took was a little blackmail to get you on your knees for him? had he known that, mark would’ve done this a hell of a lot sooner.

then, you darted your tongue around his slit, bringing it down to lick at his shaft and tongue his balls. mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and locked it in place behind your head, not only to keep it out of your face, but to have something to anchor himself with when he felt as if he was going under.

and with your experience, that would happen a lot of times.

it was almost like you were pulling out all of the stops to convince him not to circulate that video of you, and judging from the desperate look in your eyes, mark pieced together that it may have not been too far from the truth. he wondered how many other guys had seen you truly desperate, not just the little shows you put on to get your way. you treated men like toys and the world like your personal playground, where boys were your subjects to bend and twist however you pleased, because you took your power from making them need you.

but mark was certain that he was the first to have the upper hand over you, something you didn’t have leverage over. everybody knew of your sexcapades with boy after boy, but only because they were always verbally spread. never had anyone seen physical proof of these little trysts, other than your little limps when you got fucked too hard.

mark wanted that. he didn’t want anyone to see your body so exposed, but he wanted everyone to know that he’d finally conquered you, and he wanted you to be unable to deny it. he wanted to fuck you so vigorously that you wouldn’t even be able to walk for the next couple of days.

you could keep a secret if you really wanted to. given the amount of times he had tutored you for a number of different courses, he was certain that doyoung couldn’t have been the only professor you fucked. having a brain just wasn’t something little whores like you were good at. mark would take good care of you if you kept pleasing him like this, and only him. you would never need another man as long as you had him to do your bidding.

there was a lewd, wet sound when you finally sucked mark’s cock into your mouth, followed by a shaky exhale of your name coming from his end. he yanked at your hair just a little, met with a muffled noise against his cock. “fuck, you’re so good at this,” mark hissed.

you only hummed because there was nothing that you could say with the tip of his dick hitting the very back of your throat. your mouth was so warm, so wet, mark couldn’t help but utter a string of profanities, stammering, “fuck,” over and over again. when you were in the picture, his genius brain couldn’t function, especially not enough for a broad vocabulary.

while one hand was tangled in your hair, mark kept his other hand bunched at his sheets, gripping them for dear life. yours were at his thighs, supporting you while you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, your pretty lips tight around his cock. his roommate wasn’t supposed to be back for a few hours and mark hoped it stayed that way, because he planned on taking his time with you.

too many months had been spent pining lostly for you, amounting to nothing in your life and hardly even being spared a glance in his general direction. for a few hours at the very least, he had you all to himself, and he was going to make sure that when you left, you would never forget him.

after he was done collecting his long overdue, much-needed apology in the form of your mouth bringing him to climax. and it wouldn’t be long before you finished him, because mark could feel himself inching closer and closer to climax the longer you warmed his size.

he started to rock his cock into the back of your throat, ruining the careful pace you’d set and grabbing a hold of the reins, fucking your mouth however he liked. you took it eagerly, struggling, but eager nonetheless.

your grip on his thighs tightened, as if you would slip away from the force of his erratic thrusts against your poor mouth. you knew your throat was going to be so hoarse by the end of it all and mark would fold the second he heard your weak voice.

the chants of your name and deep curses got louder, more repetitive as mark continued to use your mouth to get off. you started to gag, but the feeling, combined with the misty look in your eyes, did nothing but encourage mark’s movements and spur him on.

his pace got rougher. the clasp on your hair was unrelenting. his thrusts lost all rhythm, sporadic as they could ever be, until you heard the anticipated prolonged stretch of, “shit,” and all his movements came to a complete standstill. his cum painted the back of your tongue and you made your best effort to swallow it all, gulping it back as quickly as it came. literally.

when he released your hair, you pulled back, your chest heaving while you watched mark try to blink the dazed look out of his eyes. you were the first girl to give him head and it enraged him to think that jaehyun had a similar experience in the back of his car, because though you were the first mark ever had, he was also certain that you would be the best.

your eyes were widened and you played coy, asking demurely, “did i do okay?”

“fuck,” was all that mark could say, back dropping against the mattress. you’d officially sucked the soul of him. 

that was answer enough. you wiped some remaining drops of semen from your mouth with the back of your hand and rose from your knees. mark had your entire future at the palm of his hands right now and you were completely at his mercy, so you figured it was in your best interest to be meek. “is there anything else i can do, markie?”

mark scanned you with his eyes, observing you from head to toe. your voice was definitely a little raspy from how far he had shoved himself down your throat and he loved every second of it. all the proof that you’d taken him.

you gasped out when mark grabbed you by the throat and whipped you onto the mattress, hovering over you. you got whiplash from how jarring it was. you were accustomed to the shy, reticent mark that couldn’t even look you in the face for too long without spluttering. “you’ve done enough,” mark said. “just lie here and stay still.”

you bobbed your head, in no position to complain. he could ruin your life and your professor’s in just a few clicks, and that was enough to terrify you into compliance, although you didn’t express how genuinely fearful you were.

mark released your throat, crawling between your legs. you were wearing this tiny fucking miniskirt and it made him so horny he got sick. the audacity of you to walk around like this, turning heads and turning people on. you instinctively spread your thighs for him, a gesture that made mark scoff, and he hardened again at the sight of your damp thong.

fuck, you must’ve really wanted him, too. just sucking dick got you aroused like that? of course, it did. you were the biggest fucking slut the campus’s ever known.

“shit,” mark whispered, touching you through your panties. you were his fantasy.

mark slipped your thong to the side, just wanting to stop and marvel at the sight of your pussy before he stuffed you full of his cock and went to town. your panties, damp as they were, kept clinging to your skin. your folds were wet and he couldn’t help but want a little taste, basking in the noise you let out when he started to lick at your pussy.

all he could hear was your airy breathing and the sound of him tonguing your cunt while your thighs tried to squash his head. he even didn’t mind it. the only thing mark cared about in that moment was savoring the taste of you.

“mark-ie,” you moaned, threading your hands through his hair.

the sound of you calling out his name, that fucking nickname you loved to taunt him with, made his cock throb and twitch against the side of his bed. you were just so enticing.

“gonna fuck you now,” mark announced, separating from your cunt.

you whined, “hurry.”

you were raising your hips, impatiently waiting to feel his touch on your skin again. mark was quick to line himself up at your entrance, steering his hard cock deep inside your cunt with one thrust. you cried out that stupid fucking nickname again while he watched with fascination how you swallowed him whole.

your pussy felt just as warm as your mouth, but tighter. mark couldn’t wrap his head around how you squeezed him, kneading his cock, wet little noises coming from your cunt with every motion of his hips. you were better than anything he could have ever imagined and this was just the beginning.

“you’re so much bigger than i thought,” you whispered, intending to keep the little confession to yourself, but it was out before you could put a lid on it.

that was conflicting to mark. on the one hand, it enraged him to a capacity beyond being fathomable. you thought he was small? but on the other, it confirmed that you did think about him, and it gave him such an ego boost to know that you thought he was big.

mark couldn’t help but ask, “am i bigger than professor kim?”

“thicker,” you exhaled, breathless. 

mark would take it. he wanted so badly to be unforgettable. you never returned to your little playthings after you’d had your fun with them. he wanted to be the one you couldn’t resist crawling back to, the one that made you feel so much ecstasy that you couldn’t find anything like him anywhere else.

it was over once mark found his pace, fucking into you with a steady rhythm. his hands had a borderline bruising grip at your thick hips, fingers finding purchase there. his airy whines were so cute and his breathy grunts were so deep, both of which had you tightening uncontrollably.

it drove mark past the threshold of insanity. he was so angry that you hadn’t given yourself to him sooner, that he was only now getting a slice of what should’ve been his eons ago.

as soon as tomorrow, you would probably be on another dick, moaning another man’s name, and he couldn’t stand the fucking mental picture he got. his only option was to take out all his pent-up frustrations on you. given that you were the root of them, the direct cause of the ache and rage broiling inside his chest, it was only reasonable and fair.

“gonna make you mine,” mark said, the pleasure spreading through him so badly that he couldn’t help but stammer.

you didn’t miss a beat. “i’m already yours.”

mark howled, feeling as if he started to sweat harder just from you uttering those three words. it was pathetic how effortlessly you could wreck him, and you were so aware of your power, so cocky. he would allow it. as long as he got what was his, all else failed to matter.

matter of fact, mark failed to think of anything that wasn’t in regard to you. he had a thousand different problems in his life and all of them melted to the warmth of your touch, succumbing to the pressure pulsing around his cock. loans didn’t matter. his stupid fucking roommate didn’t matter. none of his assignments mattered. when it came to you, mark got tunnel vision.

there was pleasure etched across your face and mark loved every inch of it. he loved that he was making you feel as good as he felt. you couldn’t even deny it. you were the opposite of still, the one thing he told you to do, but again, he would allow it.

mark was so deep inside that it was probably mind-numbing. “markie,” you whimpered out, gasping for air. 

“mark,” he corrected with a growl, snapping the band of your thong against your skin. he was tired of that nickname. it felt infantilizing. he doubted that you called jaehyun jaehyunie.

you choked out, “mark.”

that was much better, but the damage was already done. mark was pissed. he’d been dreaming of how exactly he would fuck you ever since he watched that video of you and doyoung (of course, he couldn’t not watch you get railed into oblivion, no matter how much it irked him) and now that he was balls deep inside you, you were still finding ways to get on his nerves.

mark grabbed you by the throat again, making your eyes widen. his grip wasn’t crushing, he cared about you too much to really hurt you, but it was tight enough. “i don’t understand you,” he hissed. “you fuck a new guy almost every fucking day, whether it be for fun or because you owe them a favor, but ignore me. you ignore me, after everything i’ve done to help you.”

“i’m sorry, mark,” you rasped, grinding your hips against his.

“no the fuck you’re not,” mark snapped. “you know how i know you’re not? because you don’t care about anything but having that dumb pussy fucked. you’d rather die than have to use that brain.”

mark didn’t miss the way you whimpered and clenched around his dick, and if anything, it made him shake his head. he was fucking you brutally and yet you couldn’t help but get off like the little whore everybody knew that you were.

he lifted up your the tight tee you wearing, the one he could see your nipples through (mark tried to ignore this for both of your sake), and sucked your breast into his mouth. you moaned, placing a hand comfortably on his head while he sucked at your nipples.

and things stayed like that for a while, almost sweet, depending on who you asked. but the heat building to a peak in your stomach was only festering and you couldn’t control the whines that frequently escaped you.

“mark,” you called out. he didn’t budge, didn’t move from your chest. “mark, i’m so close.”

mark lifted his head at that, dragging, “shit.”

you needed to cum so badly. if he wanted you to beg, you would if that was what it took. “please make me cum, mark. please, make me cum…”

all mark did was curse and swear, and your eyes were on his face, watching every word part his delicate lips. you’d seen his face tense with pleasure and fell in love with the sight, like that itself was getting you there.

and it did. 

there was a final, loud cry of mark’s name when you climaxed, your eyes rolling back with pleasure and your fingers digging into the sheets.  mark had sat here so many times on this very bad, jacking off to the thought of you, and now he was getting you off. 

it was something straight out of his dreams. he couldn’t help but cum, grinding to a halt and unleashing his load inside of your pussy. he couldn’t stop himself from whining your name, grabbing onto your hips while you bled him dry of all of his cum for a second time. he always had more than enough for you.

for a moment or two, the two of you only stayed there. neither of you moved. his head rested against your chest, hearing and feeling your ragged breaths. when you finally remembered why you’d agree to all of this in the first place, you asked softly, “you aren’t going to show anyone, right?”

mark shook his head, murmuring into your neck, “your secret’s safe with me.” for now.

you released a little breath, which felt easier now, despite the weight on your chest. 

when mark at last pulled out, he slipped your panties back in place, preventing his cum from leaking out of your cunt where he patted you with two fingers. “keep it there,” he said, stern.

you blinked, but the gaze in his eyes said that he was purely serious. maybe someone would see you leaving his dorm with his cum drizzling down your legs.

and they would know who you belonged to. mark was getting hard again just thinking about staking his claim to you. she’s all the rage, he thought. and she’s all mine.

[getodrools]

𐙚 DIFFERENT POLES: TOJI FUSHIGURO!

IN WHICH, step dad! toji was snooping around and found your personal items! and toji takes the chance to blackmail you for being a stripper – with shameful lap dances in return for keeping your little secret…

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! stripper! reader. dub con (coercion). step cest. blackmail mention. age gap (reader: early 20s, toji: late 40s). manipulation. lap dance turned to riding. slight praising + degrading. humiliation. dacryphilia. size difference. overstimulation. cervix/womb fucking. non con creampie. orgasm denial. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !

NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p

“please… don't tell mom.”

was the first thing you could muster up through fat tears. the embarrassment was flamming at a rise in the pit of your tummy when your step-father found your secret stash — not asking why he was even going through your panty drawer in the first place, too caught up on the fact he was holding your intimate stripping items with his bare hands.

you remember how he heavily sighed too, the deep shame in his voice was guttural, “i’m so disappointed in you… but i won't,” you also remember thinking you were actually off the hook; hiccuping through slowing tears ‘till leafy eyes hooded into deep sets, “only if you show me what you do.” and even when toji sparked up a slimy smirk, you remember how he stuffed his back pocket with your panties as anew tears began.

…

“fuck, they must really love you.” his words only add to the stinging humiliation – just how the cracking swats laying firm against the globes of your ass ache. and you could only claw at the broad shoulders ahead of you as a safe haven.

“don't get all shy. show me that slutty face-- show me those pretty ‘fuck me eyes’ of yours.” toji was cruel, battering your ass into his vice; squeezing and groping the tender skin ‘till the jiggly flesh molded out from between his fingers, forcing your face to tighten and eyes to peel back.

“toji!—”

“what? scared i’ll destroy your money maker?” you never knew how slimy your stepfather could get, watching how that silvery scar rises with a filthy smirk.

“fuck me. i’m too hard just to get fucking rubbed on.” your saliva thickens in your throat, feeling a twist in your stomach at his harsh and crude, sudden words.

the fleeting idea of fucking a man you call ‘father’ was wrenching, but feeling the thick print throbbing beneath you and the scare of your mother finding out hanging above your head, you slid your panties over the fat of your folds.

“good girl. bet they pay you lots for this-- how many gross men paid my pretty daughter for her pussy, huh?” toji gruffs out with no shame while adjusting his pants ‘till the fat pole of his meat spurred out.

you try hard to ignore the vulgar, spitting comments he spews out with, but watching how the older man worked his length with a sharp twist and panted at your body hovering over his to saddle against, you couldn't help but feel the moistened walls of your cunt flutter in shame.

“well, that don't matter now. i got a family discount.”

where was the shame anyways?

the oozing pre-drooling from the fat tip of his cock reminded you there wasn't any as you sucked in a deep breath to behest his throbbing length.

lined sweat crossing your forehead glistens as you settle your folds against the crown of his cock; dropping yourself to sheath around his more than nth-inch bitch-breaker into your pussy, feeling your walls stretch in vigor – an almost pain crowded but itched a deep sense of pleasure.

toji was thick, and he knows it too, watching how breathless you got stuffing yourself like a rag doll.

yet, he couldn't care, still holding that scare above your head and laid further back, soaking in the snug warmth your cunt blankets around him with. he lets out a breathy groan and cranes his head back while you suck in your bottom lip to chew on at the invasive fill.

you ignore how your stepfather never lets go of you barring hips, almost forcing them to roll tenderly against his with fervor. impatient he was, he squeezes at soft flesh to lean you – a position to let his cock piston up into your spongy walls with battering shock.

you gasp.

eyes peeling back wide at the barreling fill of his cock punching deep into your core mercilessly.

toji’s fist-sized balls bump against your ass with muffled claps at each thrust and you could only lean into his chest as a safe haven; clinging to his broad shoulders as trembling legs buckle around his, letting the older man fasten the sweaty work into his own hands. his rhythm was found quickly – a pace that was unrelenting and sharp; an immediate start-up of frantic fucking.

toji had the feeling of stuffing you balls deep pass through him like a sixth sense — as if he knew prodding at your cervix would make you drool, and he kept at it.

keeping you close with his cock powering through you and adding a strong edge to every buckle and jab into your sweet tightness, he hits at your cervix with the strength of one. the fleshy taut barrier concaves around his cockhead each time, forcing your eyes to bubble up in tears; tears of rather intense pleasure comprising with the mix of delicious pain. and the fast pressure applied to your sensitive perk forces your insides to respond by roiling around his cock, but crocodile tears  wasn’t enough to slow toji – not at all, only making the man closer to cumming.

but feeling tight walls spasm around his working cock, he froths knowing that sensation of a women – the longing feel of a high about to spatter a filthy mess against him, and he slows his hips, rocking them ever so slightly ‘till you catch the sense of reality back.

you almost whimper at the, almost, complete stop.

“your pussy was squeezing me, ‘bout to cum, huh?” clenching your eyes at the dirty truth, you shamelessly nod in hopes he'd run the engines again.

“no cumming for you. bad girls don't get good things, so finish me off.” toji keeps his vice around you and watches dearly how your eyes drop from hoods to doey sets.

“get to it. your mother comes home in ten minutes or so.” your senses click back from his gruff words, and you hadn’t realized how you were about to cum all over your stepfather's cock in minutes.

the growing sense of being impatient was heading for you, and the sense of being caught was looming right above your head – a guilt growing to fuck yourself like a toy in excuse…

choking up a sob, you keep the throbbing cock poking deep into your cunt, practically feeling the capped-tip kiss at your womb as you sat firmly into his thick lap. your father finally frees his bruising grip and lays his hands to the side nonchalantly, now letting you take charge — in a sense.

your hips roll against his in pure ardor, driving the breath from your own lungs in a single rush for a rhythm as gravity went to work; breast bouncing and panted moans falling. fucking the sopping heat of your cunt with broad strokes and harsh jabs that make your pussy writhe, you can even feel the dark pricks of hairs tickling at your clit; softly rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“better at riding dick than your mom.” he adds to the filth with no warning. purely enjoying ridden flesh sinking into embarrassment as sopping folds go obscenely wide in acceptance of his cock.

with full-bodied strokes — putting your all into it; every line and inch of flesh tensing hard as you rail yourself out. almost making a mess above him as toji felt his balls swell and cock fill out from it's aching knot; pleasure rising, the heat in each of your loins building to unthinkable heights.

toji gave no warning, again.

face tightening as toji moaned wordlessly as the thick slab of heavy meat burbs out spurts of liquid warmth into the deep core of your womb. you feverishly moan out in disgust, feeling the ropes of rich baby-batter paint into your teaming depths, slathering against the entrance of your womb and globbing out as you jump up and crawl away in notion fear.

“did you just cum in me?!” you groan at the side as toji’s dick still spurt out dribbles of white goo, “you're sick! i’m your daughter!” with the whiplash of your head, you only lock gazes with lazy green eyes that look at you no different.

you swallow up your words.

“anyways. if you're so worried, then you better hurry up n’ get your ass washed. your mom just pulled into the driveway.” toji looks over from your bedroom window, seeing a black car rolling in and parking…

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

[hergnomieness]

Bad jokes cos I’m not ready to cry about choices I made in this game.

[rottmnt-residuum]

Part 12 of Arc II (Part 38 - Gore)

thats the chip omg you finally see it

⇇ | ⇽ | index | ⇾

[konigsblog]

smoking weed with stepbrother-könig.🍃

tw/cw: weed consumption, dub-con, stepcest, intoxication, coercion.

your stepbrother is always making an attempt to get into your panties. he can't help himself. you're his craving, his desire, and what he fantasises about. 

könig spends a lot of his free time smoking marijuana in his messy bedroom, messaging you and begging you to come over and comfort him, just so he can coerce and manipulate you into sucking him off or giving him a nice handjob to soothe his anxieties. it almost always works. you trust him with your heart and believe he's being honest and loyal with his beloved stepsister, that his intentions are pure and not corrupted and perverted.

it takes a lot of convincing, but eventually könig has you sitting beside him on his leather couch in his apartment, shoulder to shoulder, a bong held in your smaller hands. the bong looks average in comparison to you, but compared to könig, the bong looks ridiculously miniature, and it's almost laughable. your scleras are a pretty pink, matching the shade of your panties. you don't wear a bra, causing your nipples to poke through the thin t-shirt you wear, hardened and perky, with könig's eyes fixated on them.

könig can't keep his eyes off of you, staring at your chest like a sicko, a disgusting pervert, deprived of sexual gratification. you're so easily convinced, so pliant, and ready to obey him. könig keeps a large hand on your shoulder to hold you still and prevent you from pulling away, the other nestled in your hair, tugging at your locks as you lean over his lap and suck him off sloppily. your soft lips wrap tightly around könig's shaft, drool running down your chin, not realising, through relaxation, that you're helping your stepbrother get off. 

you just want to make könig happy, to ease all of his stress and anxiety, so he'll stop whining at you, ranting about him being pent-up and sexually frustrated, and saying that you're only making it worse by refusing him the right to your cunny. 

your tongue coats könig's length in your spit and saliva, drooling around his girthy cock with the tip oozing pearly beads of his hot, salty semen. he sucks in a sharp breath at the tightness of your lips around his shaft, his grip on your hair becoming firm, pushing you further down onto his lengthy dick. the sounds of your gags and struggles leave könig fucked-out stupid, too high to string a coherent sentence together.

you're not given a warning before könig pulls you off of his swollen dick, shooting ropes of his milky and creamy stickiness all over your face. he'd been waiting for this moment all of his deployment, to see globs of his arousal painting your face, your eyes glistening and half-lidded, with your panties damp and soaked from your sweet, pearly pleasure.

[h34rtbeat]

STEP-BRO SHOTARO HC’S

pairings: elder!steprbo!shotaro x younger!afab!reader

warnings: stepcest, some non-con, some dub-con, p in v, vaginal fingering, condoms are used!, use of nii-chan

nsfw under the cut!

stepbro!shotaro who showed up with your new dad. You hated it, every bit of it. Your parents separated, but that wasn’t necessarily why you were upset. You didn’t want a new dad, you didn’t want a new family!

stepbro!shotaro who’s determined to make you feel comfortable with him, by any means necessary.

stepbro!shotaro who introduces himself kindly, telling you “I’m gonna be your new nii-chan, so let’s be nice to each other, yeah?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. Your mother laughed and patted your shoulder, muttering a “you two will get along so well.”

stepbro!shotaro who’s always smiling. You noticed during the introductory dinner you both had together, parents on either side while you two were forced to sit together.

stepbro!shotaro who after your parents so graciously decided to go out alone, is assigned with taking care of you.

stepbro!shotaro who’s actually way nicer than you thought. You sit on his bed, the sheets soft and pillow like. You end up chatting with him, finding out he’s a dancer. And he’s amazing too, showing you some of his videos.

stepbro!shotaro who uses your insecurities and shyness to his advantage ): he knows ur insecure about having to tell people about your new ‘family’. He knows you’re naturally a shy girl. Why don’t you let your nii-chan help you?

stepbro!shotaro who gets close to you, quickly. He wants to know everything about you. Your parents are so happy. What a good, big, step brother he was being!

stepbro!shotaro who tells you that you’ll become even closer, his hands moving around your breasts, slipping under your sweatpants.

“Nii-chan, I said no..” you mutter, squirming slightly.

“Hm..?” He looks down at where his hand is, rubbing your clit. “I thought you said you wanted to be closer, sis. C’mon, let your nii-chan become closer with you, yeah?”

“But I said no..” you tried pleading, but your thoughts were quickly cut off when his fingers started going in and out of you. You never felt so euphoric.

Shotaro was so hard, he could feel himself twitching. Your cute moans begging him to stop, the words ‘nii-chan’ slipping out of your mouth. He couldn’t get enough.

stepbro!shotaro who wastes no time in using your sweet pussy for his pleasure. This is what big bros did, right?

stepbro!shotaro who fingers you, pressing you against the wall. Tall frame against yours, your moans being covered by his hand. He wishes he could let you moan out loud. Too bad your parents are right next door.

stepbro!shotaro who wants to do it raw so badly. It pains him every time he has to use the stupid cherry flavored condoms for you to let him fuck you.

stepbro!shotaro who makes you suck him off, in the nastiest places. your parents made you pick him up from dance practice since you’re learning to drive? you’re sucking him off in his practice room.

stepbro!shotaro who fucks you against the mirrors of the room. records it sometimes, too. breaking his innocent stepsister seemed to be his hobby.

stepbro!shotaro who hides his perversion to everyone else with his cheesy smile. no one has to know what he does with his step-sis, right?

[rinhaler]

Baby I Know How To Use a Gun (𝒢𝓊𝓃.. 𝔊𝔲𝔫)

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ toxic!megumi fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: smut Notes: this concept has been making me insane for WEEKS I just had to get it down, it's icky as usual = bon apetit ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ p.s. i dont know anything abt guns uwu Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, alcohol consumption, cheating, toxic!relationship (they are both toxic af), gaslighting, manipulation, coercion, co-dependency, gun inaccuracies (probably), gunplay ♡ physical abuse?, pussy drunk!megumi, choking, dacryphilia, daddy!kink, bruising ♡, spanking, masochism, minor dildo use, fingering, dumbifcation, pussy spanks, scratching, breeding kink, calls your pussy ‘she’. Words: 8k (I'm so sorry)

part of my toxic lovers collab

Nothing bothers you when you’re with Megumi. It’s impossible to feel any emotion besides pure, unadulterated lust whenever he’s with you. You were always such a prude before him. Absolutely disgusted whenever you’d see a couple hold hands or peck each other on the cheek.

It made your skin crawl when you saw couples kiss with tongue.

But he’s turned you into something you hate. You don’t care if you’re sitting with a group of friends, you couldn’t stop yourself from straddling him and basically dry fucking his thigh while making out with him. And it was worse when you drank.

So here you are now, in the back of a taxi on the way home from a mutual friend’s party. You haven’t seen Megumi in two days after a particularly vicious fight. You’d think an invisible force was driving the taxi, the way you’re kissing and wriggling around for him. You’ve rolled your hips so much that the uncomfortable driver can see a tease of white cotton between your legs under your little cocktail dress.

Megumi’s mouth is wet. A combination of sticky lip gloss and a mixture of saliva’s. He pulls away from kissing you every so often just to hear you whisper desperately for the feeling to return. He pulls little moans from you as he teases between your sodden folds.

“Knew you’d miss this dick too much to say no.” he grins before kissing you more. You laugh into it, not an ounce of remorse or regret behind it as you feel him against you. “Say you missed me. Tell daddy you missed ‘im.” he demands, grunting against you.

You ignore him, trying to shut him up with a kiss. A perfectly manicured hand traverses from his shoulder to his thigh, a subtle tease to distract him. A noble attempt results in failure when he stops playing with you and grabs your wandering wrist.

“Tell me.”

You avert your eyes, deciding to look out of the window while wiping the spit and gloss from your chin. He watches you, carefully, eye twitching as he tries to deduce what you’re keeping from him. A finger presses into that soft flesh of your cheek bending quickly and forcing you to face him yet again.

“What are you hiding?” he asks, the friendly lilt behind his voice being betrayed by the unamused sneering smile on his face. “Who did you fuck?”

“None of your—”

“Just tell me, you know you’re going to fucking spill so just do it now.” he instructs. You hear an amused scoff from him as you cross your arms petulantly and pout like a child who isn’t allowed a toy from the store. His face gets closer to yours, but you’ve already had enough of him. It’s been two days and you thought you were gonna die if you didn’t see him. But a few minutes in a taxi has reminded you why you didn’t want to see him in the first place. “Did he at least make you cum?” he whispers into your ear.

A soft breath leaves you as his hand slithers down your stomach and under the hem of your dress. You want to protest as you feel him prodding over the damp spot of your panties, but your mouth turns dry. Words turn to ash as he repeatedly tortures you with featherlight touches against your clit.

“Hm? Did your new little boyfriend make this pussy cum?” he wonders, voice a lecherous buzz that vibrates from your ear to your cunt. You fucking hate him. You can’t stand how difficult it is to stay true to your morals and self-respect when he knows every single square inch of your body and exactly which titillating button to press. “Mmm, bet he didn’t. Bet he couldn’t. ‘cause she only listens to me.”

“Megs…” you groan. Your hips involuntarily rolling up into his touch. The teasing barely there presses making your mind hazy, your body instinctively chases for more as the touch feels less and less the harder you buck. “D-Don’t stop, Megu—”

He softly kisses your lips to silence you, still refusing to continue touching you properly. You moan, a chaste sound as his lips stray from yours to kiss along your jaw like he loves you. He sucks at your neck like a fucking vampire before alternating to those sweet kisses again. You hate him, you hate that he’s trying to be something he’s not to get you to tell him your secret.

These kisses are so fucking sickly, like a stranger is forcing himself inside of your skin with each delicate press against your neck. And it’s making your teeth rot. You’re a stupid girl. His stupid girl because you’re falling for it. Your candy-coated tongue is loosening and preparing to bare your entire fucking soul to him so long as he keeps touching you and giving you your sugar fix.

His hand holds your waist, a weight for himself more than you. Two whole days away from your perfect cunt has been hell for him, and not being able to touch you is a fate worse than death. He wants to tease your pressure points until you’re dying for him. He wants your every breath to be agonising without him.

Without seeing him.

Without feeling him.

Without breathing him.

He needs your every thought and whim to be aching for him and him alone. So, he needs to control himself. By showing restraint and fighting his primal urge to make your pussy fucking purr for him, he’s keeping his hand on your waist.

You smirk as he decorates your neck in bruises, you feel the sickening smile sprawling across his fucking face. And again, you want to protest, you want to tell him what you think of him and how much you can’t stand him. But when his hand begins another journey, you can’t. You can’t as your body jolts into his touch as his fingertips tickle your ribs. They don’t stop, teasing traces of his finger cover your body despite being clothed.

How can such a light touch feel so powerful?

You try to stifle yourself as he cups your breast, the flesh and swollen nipple are exposed thanks to your decision to forgo a bra. You still have your dignity, Megumi isn’t that perverse to allow this random old driver the honour of seeing your tits.

You’re just that weak.

They’re covered, entirely, and still his rubbing and tweaking are too much for you. Your attempt to bite your lip is just that. An attempt. A feeble attempt to withhold your pleasure from him which only ends in you mewling harder for him. Your heavy, lust-filled breaths fill the cab as he rubs his thumb slowly back and forth over your nipple. His teeth bite and kiss at your jawline once more, albeit he is barely present either. He’s almost as fucked out as you are, he can’t silence his pleasure. His breathing heavier than you know it to be. His eyes lidded heavier than they’ve ever been.

“Yuuji—” you pant, your body is limp in the back seat as he feels you up. His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kisses your neck and sinks his head until he reaches the top of your breast. “Did you hear m— ow! Megumi!”

“Shut up.” he chides. He sank his teeth into your tit before speaking.

You stare into his emerald eyes as you contemplate his next move. That’s the one bad thing about being with Megumi.

That’s a lie, there’s a lot of bad things, you just choose to ignore them.

But you know you’ll never be as clever as he is. You’ll never be able to fully read him like he does you. He knows every move you’re going to make before you’ve made it. He can read you like a book and it fucking scares you.

“Yuuji couldn’t make you cum… you wanna know why?” he asks, his thumb strokes your earlobe between gentle pulls. It’s too sweet again, you think. There’s no way he’s this calm after finding out you fucked his best friend. He’s always been jealous. You think he’s just possessive but deep down you should know the truth. He’s scared you’ll leave him. He’s insecure and that is why he makes such a show of making it known that you are his.

“Why…” is all you can think to say. And he smiles at that. His fingers no longer toying with your ear. The way his fingers draw along your skin makes your hair stand on end. He feels no sympathy as he sees your arm breakout in goosebumps despite knowing he is the cause. And he feels even less as he wraps his hand around your pretty little throat.

He squeezes tight.

Tighter.

Tighter.

“Because you don’t belong to Yuuji. You belong to me.” he tells you, his grip is bruising. His teeth are bared as he feels your pathetic pawing, desperately trying to pull his fingers from your neck.

He’s going to kill you, you think. His voice full of vitriol and malice as he effortlessly wrings the life out of you with one hand. And the taxi driver doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to intervene because it isn’t his place.

A lovers quarrel.

That’s what he must think. You were all over each other a moment ago after all, maybe you’re just a slut who likes it a little rough.

You are, but that’s besides the point.

He probably doesn’t want to risk sticking his nose in and getting more involved than he needs to be. You know yourself that Megumi doesn’t care. He’d only tell him to mind his own fucking business.

“You think I didn’t know?” he whispers, his breath warming the shell of your ear as he doesn’t let up. “You reek like him… you smell like a fucking whore.” his words, his tone, his breath all dripped with virulence. He lets go of you, practically throwing you to the other side of the taxi as tears spill over your cheeks.

You wipe them, quickly, but the damage is done. The way you’re sniffling and trying to do damage control to your perfectly done makeup is nauseating to him. Silence fills the taxi and the air is thick. You roll down a window, the cold air lashes against your face and dries your tears as you wait to reach your destination.

--

The car pulls up outside of your apartment. You barely wait for him to come to a stop before you open the door and rush out to open the security door. The bite in the winter air has you trembling as you fiddle with your keys. The little dress and lack of coat certainly wasn’t a wise choice, but you’ll always place looking hot ahead of being practical.

But in truth, the weather isn’t the sole culprit. It’s barely bothering you, honestly. Megumi’s casual callousness and unyielding grip around your throat are what has you shaken up. It’s not the first time he’s choked you and you doubt it’ll be the last. But it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do it with that look in his eye. A look that told you how little you mean to him. How unfazed he would be if you died by his hand.

You’re wrong, though. While you’re fiddling with your keys Megumi pays the driver. He tips him a fair amount and then follows you out, approaching slowly as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes weren’t cold because you mean nothing to him, it’s the opposite. You are everything to him. Why do you think he’s being so cruel to you? To get it through that pretty little skull.

“You didn’t answer me, princess.” he tells you, and by now you don’t even know what he’s talking about. “Did you think you could fuck anybody and I wouldn’t find out? I always do.”

“Shut up.” you tell him, though it’s quiet and meek. Your usual bravado and confidence lodged in your dry throat. You finally slot the key in the hole and turn it, allowing him to enter with you. “You said it yourself… I was always going to tell you I fucked him.”

He scoffs, watching you climb the stairs. Even now he has no shame. He’s unable to stop himself peaking up your dress to see your panties riding up your ass as you walk. You can be as mad at him as you like, you both know you’re too weak to say no to him.

He follows, eventually, catching up with ease. You allow him to take the key from you and walk ahead, unlocking the door like it’s his apartment. It may as well be, he spends so much time here after all. Most of his things are here, you’re here. Though he’s been banished for the last few days to stay at his dad’s house after your latest fight.

The door opens and he makes himself at home. He collapses onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and crosses one ankle over the other. You go inside, slowly, locking the door behind you and looking at him suspiciously.

“… What are you doing? I know you aren’t here for a fucking movie night, Megs, are we going to bed or not?”

“No. We’ve gotta talk first.” he tells you. You roll your eyes and leave him alone to walk to your bedroom. He sighs, annoyed, following you. “Back to being a brat? You only fuckin’ behave yourself when I make you cum.”

“Fuck you.” you sigh. “What is there to talk about?”

“You cheating on me with my best friend springs to mind, baby. We should probably clear that up, shouldn’t we?” he’s talking like it was a silly misunderstanding. Like you almost walked away with his suitcase at the airport that just so happens to be identical to yours. But nothing you do will ever match up to what he does. You can go low; but there’s no sight to the depths he’ll stoop to.

“Fuck! You!” you tell him, pointing your finger in his face like you always do when you’ve had too much vodka. “You are the reason I don’t have any friends anymore because you fucked them all! I broke up with you when I fucked Yuuji so whoever I fuck in that time is none of your business. I—”

“Baby—”

“No, shut up. I forgave you every single time you fucking cheated on me because I’m an idiot and I love you. So, stop talking about Yuuji, it doesn’t matter. We weren’t together. In fact, we still aren’t! You should count yourself fucking lucky that I’m even giving you the chance to fuck me tonight.”

He walks to you, slowly, and you don’t have the energy to be a brat anymore. You let him get closer and closer until you’re looking up into his eyes while his hand rests on your hip and the other cups your cheek. His head tilts, and your eyes instinctively flutter closed as his lips press against yours.

“I know ‘m lucky, princess. Missed you so much baby.” he tells you before deepening the kiss.

You’re too weak to be with a man like him and expect to be anything but a plaything. The hand lingering on your hip wraps around your back before down to your ass. The pudgy softness of your ass swells between his fingers, the white material of your dress warming his hands as he grips you roughly. He smirks against your lips before landing a harsh smack against your supple flesh. The yelp he extracts from you is fucking delectable. He could quite happily gorge himself on the sound and make it his life essence until the end of time.

“Daddy missed his perfect girl ‘n her perfect pussy… didn’t even fuck anyone else. No one compares to you, y’know?” he tells you quietly, almost like it’s a secret only meant for you to hear. He hikes up your leg so it’s settled around his waist, your other instinctively follows so that you’re completely in his hold. He walks you to the bed, his mouth suffocating yours and you can’t think of a single coherent thought as your brain feels starved of oxygen.

You giggle as you fall onto the bed, your shoulder blades against the mattress while he presses his weight fully on top of yours. He keeps a thigh between both of yours, and he revels in how pathetically you’re rutting your hips against it just to satiate the slightest bit of tension formulating at your core because of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you slip your tongue into his mouth. The moaning sounds trapped in your throat break free and he devours them as he feels you up in every way he can to make your mind dizzy and drunker than vodka could ever make you.

“Do you believe me?” he asks, breaking the kiss to see how needy you are. Your eyes give you away in an instant, filling with water the minute he pulls away. You feel so in love with him when you have your arms around him like this. When he’s caging you in like you’re his property.

You are.

That’s how he sees you, and that’s how he makes you feel.

No matter how dehumanising or fucked up, you just don’t care. You wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but him, anyone. And isn’t this what the main goal in life is? To find your person? To fall in love and be adored so wholly it makes you insane?

You feel that with him.

He feels that with you.

“N-No…” you confess. You aren’t scared of him; you never really have been. You’re scared of what he can do to you. You’re terrified of how strong he is and how unyielding he is in his pursuit of having all that he wants in the world with a cherry on top for presentation. But he doesn’t scare you, not really. Not enough to hide how you really feel. “Why would I believe you when you’ve cheated so much?” you ask.

He’s a little surprised by your brazenness and resolve. Usually with a little kissing and humping you stop caring about what kind of a person he is and what he’s done to you in the past. You aren’t scared; but you’re making him feel fear.

“Mmm, baby. You really need to cum, hah? Is that why you’re bein’ so dumb f’me? Can’t think because you need to cream for daddy…” he insults you with ease, and your brows knot into a bemused frown. “Awe… you’re s’cute when you’re confused, baby. Jus’ let me touch you, don’t think too hard. I forgive ya.”

“W-Wha?” you hum, the determination to continue questioning him falls silent as he pushes your panties into the crease of your thigh. The breeze rolling through the open window causing a shiver to roll through you and truly feel the difference between your freezing body and the sopping warmth betwixt your thighs.

“You said you didn’t cheat when you fucked Yuuji. So how can I cheat if I fucked other girls at the same time?” he asks. “I didn’t, though,” he spreads your pussy lips open and collects the ever-dampening slick on his fingers. He buries his head beside yours, kissing and breathing against your ear as he swipes softly over your throbbing clit.

“But you—”

“I fucked my fist ‘n thought of you.” he whispers, his fingers not stopping the lackadaisical stroking. “Whenever I got hard… jus’ thought of your pretty cunt swallowin’ me and made myself cum so fast. Looked through your Insta feed ‘n your selfies, imagined cumming all over your face.”

“Fuck.” you keen, hips bucking wildly in search of more pleasure than his modest touches. You fully wrap your arms around him, kissing him passionately and he begins to pick up the pace. “I love you.” you mumble, like the pathetic person you are. He grins and bites your lower lip before kissing you deeply.

He’s got you right where he wants you.

“I love you, baby.” he confesses, though you’ll never know if he really means it. Maybe he loves fucking you and loves having a pretty little trophy on his arm to call his and show off to his friends. Maybe he loves the idea of you and what you can do for him in terms of looks and status.

But is he in love with you?

You can only hope.

All you can do is hope he never lies to you. He never hides his cheating from you, you think he’s always honest with you so is it possible he can actually love you when he says he does? It’s enough to make you cry. Knowing that you’ll never really know makes you feel sick with an excruciating desire to make him.

You have to be his perfect girl.

You have to take all of the negatives that come with loving Megumi Fushiguro.

He stands above you on his knees, reaching over you to grab some pillows to place under your hips. You wriggle and squirm in his absence, awaiting his return to you. But you forgot about the pillows. Your head snaps in the direction he’s reaching as he picks up the two nearest pillows to him. Any attempt to object would be fruitless now that you’re too late.

Your body fills with heat and shame as he lifts the pillows to see a purple, silicone dildo beneath where they once were. The laugh that escapes him is boisterous as he looks between you and the toy. You shield your face with your hands, almost ready to cry, and his laughing doesn’t cease.

“This is pathetic, princess. Did you even fuck Yuuji? Or did you just spend the last two days riding this stupid thing?”

“I fucked him!” you protest. You reach to grab the purple dildo from his hand but he’s too fast for you, still far too amused by this discovery to let up on teasing you. “He did make me cum, by the way—”

“You are a fucking liar.” he snorts. “Bet ya hurried him out of here so fast so that you could stuff this purple cock up yourself and pretend it was daddy fuckin’ you. Bet you were tryin’ so hard to cum and you couldn’t.”

“I hate you.” you sniff, attempting to grab the toy once more to no avail.

“You just told me you love me. So again, you’re fuckin’ lying to me, princess.” he continues.

You feel his body press against yours once more as he cages you in. You just watch him and prepare for whatever he’s about to do. There’s no point in trying to fight him when you know you’ll always lose. You cringe, slightly, as he starts to trace the tip of the cock over your swollen lips. His own mouth widens, a silent action, he’s coaxing you to mirror. And perfectly, you do.

You’re almost certain you see a heart-shaped twinkle in his eye as he softly pokes it in and out of your mouth, enamoured by the way your tongue instinctively swirls around it. You see more of his sharp canines the further he pushes it in. And it’s a full-blown snarl as he shoves it down your throat until you’re sputtering.

“I fucking hate you!” you yell and grab the toy quicker than he’d anticipated, snatching it from his grasp. “Get off me, now.” you command, pushing him off you. You know he let you when he moves away effortlessly. If he wanted to keep you trapped, he would.

“You’re so easy to tease.” he smiles.

You ignore him completely as you stand up. He watches you intently as you pull open the second drawer of your nightstand so hard the entire cabinet shakes. He tries to steal a peak of whatever other treasures you might be hiding in there, but you kick it closed before he can torment you any further.

“Awe, you’re no fun. Not gonna let daddy see what other toys aren’t good enough? Can show you how to use ‘em when you’re missing me.” he grins, he gets closer to you. Close enough to smooth his hands over your sides as you glare down furiously at him. You grab his hands, basically throwing them back at him.

“You are such a dick all of the time. I actually can’t stand you; I hate you.” you tell him, knowing yourself it’s a weak response even for you.

“You’re always such a good fuck when you’re pissed off.” he smirks, he takes off his shirt and throws it aside. You do your best to keep eye contact with him, not wanting to let your eyes wander and rake over his chiselled body. He sees you steal a few glances; he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “Stop bein’ such a brat. Don’t be embarrassed, daddy thinks it’s cute that you touch yourself.”

A black silhouette in the drawer is stuck in your mind. Despite your cunt growing wetter and your thoughts becoming cloudy, you can think of nothing else. He is a dick. And part of you does fucking hate him. So, you open the drawer again. He doesn’t watch you, this time, he’s more focused on reading your body language now. What are you thinking? What’s on your mind?

“’m really pissed off, daddy.” you tell him with confidence. His body stiffens like a corpse as you pull a gun from the cabinet. A Glock 40. He does all he can to maintain his composure, to remain control of the situation and of you. But it’s clear he’s worried. He’s never seen you like this before, ever.

But he knows you. He knows what you’re thinking before you even do. He can read every little muscle pulling on your face. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to look angry, he knows what you look like when you’re really angry. You’re pissed, sure, but you certainly aren’t capable of doing any real damage with that thing. Not on purpose, anyway. And definitely not with the way your hands are fucking trembling.

“You gonna kill me, baby?” he asks.

“I might.” you tell him, you can feel the way your hands are shaking while gripping onto the gun. There’s no question he’s noticed, too. You’ve made a declaration by standing here like this, willing to toy with his life as well as your own. You can’t just put it away and pretend nothing happened, you need to make some kind of statement or you’ll never here the end of it.

He’ll ridicule you ‘til his dying breath.

“How?” he asks, getting closer to you. You back away, but you’re against the wall before you know it. He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet planted firmly against the ground so you know he can lunge at any moment.

“I’ll shoot you…” you speak, he hears an unintentional warble in your voice, and you can see the fucking smirk stretching across his face at the sound. You fucked up, he knows you don’t have it in you. But he’s probably known the whole time.

He grabs your wrist, and you yelp. Your eyes widen in horror as he moves your hands so that the gun is aimed at his chest.

His heart.

“Here?” he asks, and it’s so casual, you think you might throw up. You want to protest, to snatch your hands away and tell him to stop being so stupid. But you can’t, you can’t give into his mind games now. You can’t. Your hands are tremoring as he moves the gun again, resting it right between his eyes. “Hm… here? Probably the quickest. Won’t leave much mess if it gets stuck in my brain.” he explains.

“Stop it.” you mutter, he can feel the way your hands are trying to get free from his hold but he’s much too strong. “I’m s-sorry, stop it, please.”

“Could make me swallow a bullet too, but I don’t think you’re gonna shoot me anywhere.” he smiles, forcing you to aim at his perfect, gleaming teeth. “Where the fuck did you get this anyway? You really are stupid.”

“My dad gave it to me!” you inform him, and you’re aiming at him with new courage and will. “I know how to use it; I have a license.”

“Your pussyof a dad got you this?” he laughs.

You shove the gun against his teeth, not taking kindly to him insulting your father unprovoked. He looks up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, he’s never been so attracted to you, really. Seeing you do all you can to stand up to him but both of you ultimately knowing you will never truly be a match for him, it’s quite interesting. Arousing, even.

He widens his mouth, allowing you to slot the black chamber between rows of white. The blinding contrast is almost enough to make you consider what you’re doing. Are you sure you want to do this? You are dangling his life in your quivering hands, after all.

“I should make you choke on this.” you whimper a little, a tear finally rolling down your cheek and giving your true cowardice away. You aren’t going to hide it this time. There’s no point in trying to clear away what he’s already seen. And you have no intention of holding a gun with just one hand when you’re already so shaken up.

He grabs your wrist, shocking you, but you don’t falter. You watch him carefully as he sinks his mouth down the chamber until it hits the back of his throat.

You hate him.

You hate how easily he can take any ounce of power you feel over him and turn it to nothing but a grandiose idea. A fleeting thought that you could make him tremble and weep before you. Maybe even apologise and promise to change because he’s the one scared of you for a change. But you should have known he’d never let you have that over him.

Hell, he won’t even let you embarrass him.

“I should fucking kill you.” you start to cry, thinking back to how he’s treated you tonight alone. He hasn’t even broken a fucking sweat. You thought you might be able to humiliate him like this. Making him choke and sputter around the gun like he’d made you with the dildo, just to see heat sear through you and add to the already burning shame you felt having been caught.

But instead, you watch him as he takes the gun as far as he possibly can. His stare is still lidded and hazy with lust and adoration for you. He does it a few times, repeatedly, and somehow still with a fucking smirk on his face.

He holds your hands still, pulling away from the gun as an obscene amount of drool pours from his mouth and down his chin. And then, he finally does begin to hack up choking breaths. Despite it being almost entirely on his terms, the feeling of cold, hard polymer clogging up his airways proved to be too much for even him to withstand for too long.

“Did you really think you could embarrass me like that?” he asks, sincerely. “You really are pathetic.”

“Megumi I—”

“Good thing you’re daddy’s stupid little girl, my pretty li’l airhead.” he grins, snatching the gun away from you. Your back slides down against the wall as you watch him fiddle with the gun, pulling out the magazine with a sadistic fucking snarl on his face. “The safety was on the whole time. And there aren’t even any bullets in here. You’re s’fucking stupid. It’s adorable.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you sob into your hands. He watches you for a moment, not an inkling of remorse lingering in his body as he sees you crying inconsolably. You feel his fingers dig into your arms and pull you towards him.

Quiet protests die the instant he throws you down onto the bed. You’re underneath him once again, but you feel even more trapped as he shows no intention of letting go of the gun. He aims it between your eyes and you can’t stop crying.

His choking was unrelenting in the taxi.

And now he has a weapon that could end your life in an instant.

But would he? Is he capable?

“I’m sorry… I love you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you weep, you don’t think you’ve ever cried so loudly or so hard in your life. You wouldn’t be surprised if a vein was bulging in your forehead, and you can without a doubt feeling a migraine bursting through your brain. But you can’t stop, you can’t stop crying. “Megumi I love you, I’m sorry.”

You know it’s empty and you know the safety is on because he told you so. And Megumi is always honest with you, isn’t he? And still, you’re panicking. You’re worried that he’ll pull the trigger and somehow wills a bullet into existence simply because he often gets what he wants in life.

He keeps the gun aimed at you until your head is resting on the pillows still remaining against your headboard. He’s donning a facial expression you’ve never seen from him before. A stoic yet somehow manic stare as he watches you cry and plead for your life beneath him like he’s some sort of God.

His expression doesn’t falter as he turns the gun and aims it at his temple. You’re screaming now. You dread to think what your neighbours think. It’s not like they’ve never heard you two fighting and fucking before, but it must be concerning for them to hear.

“Megumi I’m sorry! Please!” you wail, fear stabbing through you as you see him begin to shake. You close your eyes, expecting the worst yet still begging with him to see sense and stop this.

He lowers the gun again, his eyes wander to follow it as he drags the cold weapon between your clothed tits and down your body. You shudder as you feel him use it to move up your dress and exposes your still bare cunt, having not moved your panties back into place.

You feel the chilled polymer dip between your folds.

“P-Please…” you beg, hoping he won’t put it in you. Your eyes screw shut as he moves it, sliding it through your soaking flesh again and again as butterflies soar through your stomach. He pulls the trigger, the vibration almost assaults your clit, despite the empty clacking filling the room. “Hnnff—”

“You’re so wet f’me… or is it just the gun? Is it turnin’ you on, princess?”

“N-No, please. I don’t wanna play with it anymore, d-daddy.” you tell him, each hitched breath you take scratching your throat. Your cries still evident as you gasp and plead with him to finally stop. You should never have pulled it on him, you should have known he’d do this.

He moves from you, opening the drawer you’d taken it from and puts it back inside. Even though it’s gone, out of his reach, you end up crying tears of relief as he places gentle kisses against your forehead and cheeks.

“You’re such a good girl, y’know? Did so well… proud of you, baby.” he whispers, and you hate yourself. You hate yourself because you’re brimming with confidence after he tells you he’s proud. Your heart crescendos to a place you know there’s no going back from now. Even after almost threatening to end your life; you’re still in love with Megumi Fushiguro.

You’re too tired.

Emotionally exhausted and physically defeated. There’s no fight left in you anymore as you feel him carefully peel away your dress from your body. He rolls the top down to your midsection, exposing your breasts to him and your still hardened nipples. He does the same with the skirt, fully revealing your glittering cunt and what a drippy mess he’s turned you into.

No one makes you wetter than he does.

He pushes your thighs apart, and lightly spanks your pussy to steal a quiet whimper from you. It’s not a punishment by any means, he just wants to make sure you’re still here with him. Still relishing this moment. Still honoured by the fact he’s even giving you the time of day to play with you like this. To satiate the burning need to be toyed with until your mind goes blank. He’ll do it for you, and it’ll take no time at all.

He kisses down from your left knee towards the apex of your thighs. He’s admiring his handiwork on your body as he does. Purple bruises he left you before your last fight have begun to turn greenish yellow as they heal.

You love his little reminders of who owns your body.

He hurts you so good. And you wouldn’t feel conquered without the bruises that his tenacious touch bestow upon you. You sink into the mattress as his tongue laves over the doughy skin of your thigh, reminding you where every single bruise is.

You gasp, back arching off the bed as you feel him insert a thick long digit into your sopping entrance. He’s slow, prodding and twisting deeper and deeper. He can make you cum like this, and you think you might gush as he teases the sweet spot buried within.

“What are you—?” you start, watching him push your legs further apart as he suckles at your clit. You feel the fingers on his free hand trace along your skin, the sensitive bruises almost pulsating beneath his touch. The way your head throws itself back seems like an out of body experience. An involuntary response to the way his finger pokes harshly into a particularly nasty looking bruise. “Hnng— fuck, daddy!”

He spanks your clit before swiping over it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. Your fingers lace between black tendrils of hair and pull as you deliquesce into the empyrean feeling that only his tongue has ever offered you.

Your mind is stripped bare as he continues his assault. Manipulative fingers push carelessly yet purposefully into your ageing bruises to extract those ethereal moans from your weak little throat.

“’m gonna c-um, daddy.” you groan, eyes fluttering white as he presses harder into your marked body.

“Show me.” he whispers, breath fanning across your sex as he speaks. “Show daddy how a slut cums.”

Every inch of your body feels tarnished and stained by him. With him. A cloying film embedded to your skin that is purely the work of Megumi Fushiguro. His insults as well as his loving touch. The fear as well as the adoration. Even his eyes ravishing you with nothing but a salacious stare leave their mark on you.

His tongue doesn’t stop as your cunt begins to spasm. He feels how your pretty pussy pulsates against his greedy face. You cum hard and coat the lower half of his face in a shimmering gleam. He’s loud, unable to hide his pleasure as he begins to hump into the mattress at the sight of you coming undone for him. It extends your own pleasure, hearing how fucking noisy he is purely from giving you head.

You hate him.

He’s so vile.

But you can’t help wanting to make him proud.

You can’t stop feeling proud when you’re a good girl for him.

And seeing him like this makes you think that he might actually love you. His eyes are definitely dotted with hearts, now, as he savours the taste from devouring your essence. There are two words lodged in your throat. Two stupid little words that you would do anything to choke down and forget right now. Maybe he won’t care, not when he’s like this. Not when he’s pussy drunk and utterly enamoured by your mere existence.

“Kiss me…” you almost suffocate as you speak, tears spilling down your cheek as your cheeks burn with heat and shame. Your eyes scrunch closed, preparing for a barrage of insults from him. You know he’s going to call you stupid, pathetic. Maybe even an airhead again.

But it doesn’t come.

He finds his strength, holding his body up on his knuckles as he drags his body up yours like a wild beast. He lowers himself, his lips locking perfectly against yours before he cups your cheek. Why isn’t he always so soft and gentle with you? You feel yourself cry more as he swipes his thumb softly across your cheek as he kisses you. His tongue teases yours, licking it and smiling when you can’t quite keep up.

You know he loves you.

Why else would he do this?

Why else would you allow this?

He pulls away, familiar green eyes staring into yours as he studies you. They’re intimidating, clinquant. The most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. He wonders if you know he thinks the same about yours.

“You want me to put it in, don’t you?” he asks. He chuckles softly as he notices you nodding before he’s even finished his sentence. Your eyes are pleading and desperate, and he’s never been one to deny you of him when you’re so needy and polite. He stands on his knees again, unbuckling his belt slowly while he examines you. The way your hips roll in anticipation, the way you’re biting your lip and forcing yourself to not allow your fingers to dip between your thighs to toy with your clit. It’s too much. It’s too long to wait as he undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. You’re almost salivating when he finally frees his cock. “Missed me that bad, hm? Missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you?” he asks, ignoring the fact he knows the answer is obvious.

“Y-Yeah…” you struggle to speak. To think as your mind runs rampant with so many sex flashbacks you have; courtesy of the very cock you’re ogling. It’s thick with gorgeous veins and flushed with the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. “Need it— need your daddy cock.” you tell him, your chest jittering with hitching breaths as you try and maintain some semblance of composure.

You’re far from composed.

You’re nothing more than a mammal, burning with a white-hot intensity from trying to control your basic instincts. The primal urge and need to fuck. He’ll help you, though. You never need to worry about those needs being neglected while Megumi has nothing but you on his mind.

The pleasure is blinding as he presses his tip against your entrance. He pushes and pushes until he’s fully sheathed in your welcoming cunt. His cockhead rests at your sweet spot, and you know he’ll waste no time in forcing your vision to white out as he fucks you.

His fingers wrap around your throat, the prettiest necklace you own, and he squeezes tight. It’s not without reason. It isn’t just to give you more bruises or to cut off your air supply. He wants to keep you focused. Focused on him. He dips his head down to slot his tongue inside of your mouth once more. It’s a sloppy, drool induced kiss that shows no signs of stopping as he rocks his hips against you. His cock slamming deep and hard against your g-spot.

You can’t talk.

The only words that swirl around your brain are expletives anyway.

His kiss is suffocating and so is his grip on your neck. He releases you, slightly, giving you the chance to breathe once more. You can barely sense where you are, you don’t know if your eyes are open or closed as the only thing occupying your mind is his cock slamming into you and bringing you to your second release of the evening.

You’re brought back to reality, though, as he lightly taps your cheek a few times before slapping you hard.

“L-Love you, daddy.” you pant, you moan for him again and again until drool leaks from the corner of your mouth. You don’t care, you don’t even notice. And the sight is making him feral as he realises how there’s truly no one for you but him.

There’s no one for him but you, either.

“Fuck.” he grunts, knowing he’s going to cum sooner than he’d anticipated. He could stop fucking you, of course, but he can’t think of a worse fate. He wants to cum. He needs to cum inside of you and flood your pretty insides with his seed. He needs to make his mark on you and remind you who you fucking belong to. “’m cumming, baby, auh—”

“D-Don’t stop!” you warn him, desperate to reach your peak with him. You try to keep him in place, your legs wrap around his back and your fingers claw into his porcelain skin. He groans, quietly, hissing as you drag your fingers across his back deep enough to draw blood. He doesn’t mind, how could he when he leaves you covered in bruises at any given opportunity? If he marks you, he owns you. If you mark him, you own him.

And he wouldn’t want to belong to anyone but you.

“S’perfect… so fuckin’ perfect f’me. Unnff— oh, oh fuuuuuck.” he finishes, still pistoning his hips to fuck his sperm deeper inside. He’d knock you up in a heartbeat if you let him. Not because he wants to be a dad. Not because he wants to have a family with you. But he wants everyone to know you’re his. He continues to moan as he imagines you with a big swelling bump and everyone knowing that he is the cause.

You can’t ever leave him.

He’ll go mad without you.

“Such a good girl… look so pretty when you cum on daddy’s cock.” he tells you. He dips a hand between where you’re joined and rubs torturous circles into your throbbing clit. Your body jolts relentlessly from the aftershocks, unable to withstand the teasing.

His touches slow, and he pulls out as you begin to catch your breath. Your breathing deepens as you feel him part your pussy with two fingers so that he can watch his seed drip out of you and onto the mattress below. He smiles, brimming with pride that he did this to you. That no matter how much you claim to hate him, he’ll always be able to do this to you.

He collapses by your side. He’s staring up at the ceiling as your bodies shine with sweat and sex. He’s panting, loudly, with the biggest smile on his face you’ve ever seen. You’re staring at him. Trying to understand what actually goes on in that fucked up head of his.

But you never will.

So, you stare up at the same ceiling as he is and keep your thoughts to yourself. Where does this leave you, now? You never said you were back together, but you think he might have already decided.

But it was always going to end up like this.

You kick up a fuss and banish him to his dads house. But he always comes back. Always. And it’s because you want him back. Because you are too weak willed to stay away from him and do what you know is right. You could move on. You could fall in love with someone that doesn’t play mind games and make your life miserable.

But you love him.

You’re so stupid, because you love him.

“I love you, Megumi.” you whisper.

He’s quiet, he’s thinking.

“I know.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[morgue-nymph]

mockery + cnc is so top tier x-x

“listen to the sounds that sloppy cunt’s making, you can’t tell me no.”

“do you hear yourself? you sound so desperate for this.”

“please? please, what? .. what, you can’t take it? oh, is that why it’s sliding in and out of your hole so easily?”

“you’re saying you don’t like it, and yet you’re so wet. i think you just like hearing yourself scream.”